Perchance to Dream
by NTJB
Summary: Bella Swan and Edward Cullen fall in love, deeply in love. But as their lives spiral out of control, Bella begins to realize that it might be too deep and questions whether it was love at all or something more dangerous? E/B A/H Violence. Abuse.
1. Prologue Turning

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

******Thank you to my final team: Cindy, KeyeCullen, and jea28. I wanted to make sure the final chapters for this fic were just right, and these women helped me make it so. What a wild ride ladies. So glad I had you three to help me in the end.**

**I would like to thank my former beta and prereader, maxipoo1024 and kellyprovence, for believing so much in the potential in this story. ****I will be grateful for the dedication they've put into this fic for as long as I live. **

**I would be nothing without Melissa. Literally. I'd be a pile of jumbled, tangled nerves because she's always been there for me from the very beginning. Thank you so much. **

**Tima83, I think my fic would be lost in a wasteland if you hadn't saved me. I needed someone in the middle hours, and you were there. Deep thanks for coming at such a clutch time.**

******Perchance to Dream is heavy, dark, and has a lot of layers and twists. This is angst on all cylinders. Also, my characters do very extreme things that may dishearten you. I can't ask you to bear with me in those situations; you may flounce whenever you'd like. However, if you choose to continue to read this, know that everything happens for a reason.**

******Warning: Violence; sexual abuse; drug use; sexual situations.**

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**Prologue- Tur****n********ing**

**June 20, 2011- Present Day**

Have you ever been at a point in your life when you need to be free and you can't? When everywhere you turn you see one wall after another, thicker than steel and higher than the sky? A life that resembles a maximum security prison more than your own damn life?

I think I've been at that point twice. The first time was when I was stuck in the smallest town on the planet, Forks, Washington. I was there for three dreadful teenage years with my dad and hated every moment of it.

The day I graduated was the best damn day of my life. It was also the day I promised myself I would never be in that circumstance again. I left Forks about a month after graduation, to college in NYC. The perfect city to be free to build myself and be who I wanted... or so I thought.

So today, after all that I have done to leave the restraints behind, I'm here again: bound, veritably gagged, and blindfolded by my life. I have nowhere to go, nothing to see, no one to turn to. It's so much worse than it was before. Three years ago, there was a way out. I could always envision the road I would take to escape. Now, there is no road; there are only walls.

But, here's the crazy thing. You ready for this? I am the only person who could break me out of this prison. Hell, it's not even a real prison! It's all in my goddamn head. I don't even know where the walls begin and where they end, but I do know that for years, I've been seeking the wrong means for release.

All last year, I relied on Edward for it. Edward Cullen. I became addicted to him, even. And now I know that I am in the thick of it. I am still dependent on him; it's as if he has a syringe dripping with heroin, mere inches away from my all-too ready and willing vein. From the moment we met, I thought he was the answer and succumbed to the peace he had inherent in him, in his mutual addiction for me.

It would be so easy to keep living like this, to keep using him to escape from my problems, but I can't. It is now or never. And "never" could not be an option.

He will kill me if I stayed with him. I will become a shell of myself, hollowed out and filled in by him. How can I do that and stand to look at myself in the mirror every morning? I cannot look into my eyes and see Edward's another day, another moment. I have to see mine. And the only way I could do that is to leave.

Tonight.

Now, I wonder how I will break it off with him, knowing how much pain it will cause the both of us. We are addicted to each other. I will need a blood transfusion to get him out of my system alone.

So, here I am: early twenties, a college drop-out, and about to make one of the most heart-wrenching decisions in my life. I sit in our apartment – Well, his penthouse. - re-evaluating my life. We've lived here for only a few months since his dad, Carlisle, bought it. I have been waiting for Edward to get home from an outing with his brother, Emmett, and his father. They went to see Romeo and Juliet at Central Park.

It is 9:30 and dinner from Spice is spread out across the dinner table. He loves spicy Thai food and today is his birthday, so I knew he would like it if I ordered in for us. He likes quiet romantic dinners at home. No interruptions.

This is supposed to be the perfect surprise. He will walk in, seeing the candlelight, the curry chicken and vegetable dumplings, and love me more than he already does. He will see me in my blue dress- one he bought for my birthday last year- and probably tell me he cannot imagine his life without me. We will make love on his three-thousand-dollar sheets and it may be the most passionate lovemaking we will ever have. He may even propose.

I don't know how I will be able to say no to him if he does. I don't know if I have the will to chicken out on him and escape without ever having to face him. Where will I go? I don't have any money. School has been out since May. I can't stay at any of the dorms, and I don't have any other friends here. Only Edward.

So, instead of all of that, this will be the worst day of my life. It will be far from perfection; it will bring about our destruction.

Watching the steam rise from the dumplings, feeling the sweat on my palms, I drown in the hopelessness again. All morning, it overwhelmed me, remembering how I got here in the first place. I spent hours beating myself up over all of the bad choices I have made, only to come to the conclusion that I have to leave.

It would be so easy just to be with him...

If only there were an easier way out. If only I had the courage to take the road less traveled and get out of this mess, a.k.a. my life. If only the mistakes I made did not plague me so thoroughly.

The wax from the candles drips onto the white linen tablecloth like tears. It's a bad omen, and my stomach churns. How will I heal after abandoning him? How will I breathe? I pray that I will have the strength to be stable enough.

As I hear the front door lock click open, the soft light from the hallway brightening the foyer in a warm yellow glow, I pray to find another addiction...

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**A/N: _Perchance to Dream_ will be ****only ****in Bella's POV. :)**

**Bye. :)  
**


	2. Chapter 1 Just Friends

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter One- Just Friends**

**April 25, 2010**

I guess it all started with Jacob.

It was April of last year in New York, my junior year of college at Tisch. It was unusually warm for April, which I loved. It was never like this in Forks in April. It would be 30 degrees and raining.

When Jacob called me, I was walking home from the train station. He had amazing news, but for some reason, he could not reveal it to me until he saw me in person on Friday. Apparently, it was a good surprise. I just needed a little patience.

"Are you moving out of Forks?" I asked him after racking my brain with all the possibilities. Maybe he was moving here? That would've been cool. This city was lonely. I had no real friends, just enemies and acquaintances who liked borrowing my notes more than hanging out with me.

"Well, that's sort of true. But I'm not telling you any more than that."

"Come on, Jake, please?"

"Bella, you only have five more days. Besides, it's not confirmed yet."

"Is it a puppy?"

Jacob laughed, which made me laugh and made him laugh harder. Both of us were known for our infectious laughter. His was more delightful. I opened the front door to my building, not looking forward to the 5-story walk upstairs. And it was sweltering outside.

"No, not a puppy, Bella."

"You know I-"

"-always wanted one, I know. Ever since you saw Paul with his rottweiler in high school, you've wanted one."

I groaned, wiping sweat off of my head. The AC in my room was going to bring about my paradise.

"Did you have to bring up Paul?" That lowlife, bastard.

"Bella, are you OK? You sound winded."

"Just walkin' upstairs. You're not still talking to him, are you?"

"Bella, I've moved on. And we're not discussing this for the eightieth time. Now, do you have a spare couch for us? I don't want to have to splurge on-"

"Hell no! Us? Wait, you mean Billy and yourself, right? That is the only acceptable version of 'us' allowed to stay in my apartment for a couple days."

"Bella," Jacob groaned, and I knew he was about to say what I dreaded. "Leah's coming."

I stopped on the fourth floor, slapping the banister. Fucking hell. I took a deep breath.

"Oh really? Well then, no. I don't have a couch for you."

"Bella, what the fuck? She's the most important person in the world to me. You need to accept that, for God's sakes."

I continued walking, disgusted with him. She was going to ruin him, I knew it. I bet the only reason why she wanted him again was because she was banking on his music career. She was gonna milk him for all he was worth when the time came, and it would. Jacob was phenomenal.

But I could not say any of that to him right now. If I kept this up, he would not bother coming to see me. She would keep him away, I was sure of it. I could not have that.

"OK. End of discussion. Now, does your secret have anything to do with your music? Did someone from Sony call?" I asked, arriving at my door. I unlocked it, which took a while, since there were 5 locks.

"Uh, maybe. You'll see."

"Jacob, you know I could just call Billy and ask. I bet even my dad knows."

"Bella, just wait. It'll be worth the surprise."

I would cook him dinner during his two-day stay, but not tell him how much it would cost to pay me back. I could see him roll his eyes over the phone and promised it would be just as good as his surprise.

"Jacob's Friesapalooza?"

"Maybe. It's only five days away. Besides, it's not confirmed yet."

He groaned and I laughed at him. He hung up soon afterward. As soon he did, I stopped for a second, in shock.

He couldn't be coming here to tell me he and Leah were getting married. Oh God, no.

I called him back, that probability daunting as hell. But I got his voicemail. I hated leaving voice messages but left him one today. This was serious business.

"You better not be inviting me to your wedding on Friday. I refuse to be Leah's bridesmaid."

I hung up, nervous as hell. But there was only so much I could do about that. So, I went over to my laptop to get some work done.

I had a history paper due tomorrow on The Cold War, which was like watching paint dry. I wrote in the same style as all of the textbooks did: stodgy and stuck up. My professors all loved pretentious writing. Their favorite student was Jessica Stanley because of that.

Yet another bitch I could not stand.

An hour into my paper, I got an email from Jessica. You might ask why she has my email address since I've wanted to rip her hair off and choke her with it since day one. It really started with Mike... something or other from freshman year.

He was the douchiest boy on campus, I was sure. He had this fake tan and this thick nasty black hair on his chest and back that you could see even through his wool sweaters. Anyway, to my despair, he liked me. And for some ungodly reason, Jessica liked him. It was so sad, the entire unrequited love situation. So, since I was a nicer, more caring person back then, I tried to convince Mike that Jessica was for him. I tried working with Jessica on how to woo him, which is where the exchanging emails and telephone numbers came in. Eventually, they got together, and Jessica and I were close until they broke up and Jessica blamed me for it. Never mind the fact that Douchebag Mike, with the twenty Live Strong bracelets on his hairy arm, didn't understand the word "faithful" if it hit him in the face.

So now, Jessica's always sticking it to me how I had ruined her life. But it was not in a vengeful way. God, that would be too juvenile, wouldn't it? We were the cream of the crop, top of the class at one of the most prestigious schools in the country, after all. She had to be more cocky about it. For three years, she would constantly mock my single white female status, as if it were a punishment or some shit. And for those three years, despite how huge NYU is, she enrolled in at least two of my classes each semester. And in each of those classes, we were in one lame competition with each other after another. Who could pass the class by being teacher's pet rather than by good old fashioned talent and hard work? Jessica could. Who could earn an A+ on a final because someone invited a professor to their folks' Christmas party last year and got them tickets to The Magic Flute at The Met? Jessica could.

At least Leah was up my ass once a leap year. She would annoy me, I would annoy her right back, and she would leave. This bitch was like hot wax on my pubes. And the only way out was to rip her off, so I was royally fucked either way. What was worse was that I had to play nice in the end. I had to give her whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it. Jessica had too much power on campus. She had all of our professors by the balls. If I got on her bad side, she would not hesitate to make my life a living hell.

When I opened up her email, I had no idea what to expect but its contents were not at all what I would have guessed, not in a million years.

_From: Jessica Stanley_

_To: Isabella Swan_

_Subject: Happy Easter!_

_Sunday, April 25, 2010 5:37 PM_

_Do you have the topic for the final waaaay before everyone else? Oh you don't? I do! I do! And guess who's giving you the deets on it today! Don't do Ten Things I Hate About You. I'm doing it. You're welcome very much._

_Choose a Shakespearean play, tragedy or comedy, and compose a comparative analysis with a mainstream film of the 20th Century. Include inaccuracies and probable causes. 15 pages, Times New Roman, 12 pt font, double spaced, MLA standard._

_xoxo, Jessica_

For all I knew, she could be lying. She was the type. I called her out on it in my reply to her, asking why she was even doing this for me. Her response:

_From: Jessica Stanley_

_To: Isabella Swan_

_Subject: Re: Happy Easter!_

_Sunday, April 25, 2010 6:05 PM_

_You just seem so lonely, these days. And I haven't seen you come to class in that 'I've just been fucked' afterglow in weeks. I just thought this would cheer you up._

_xoxo, Jessica_

Typical. She had to stick it to me.

I thanked her briefly, still wary of her sudden benevolence. Professor Evans was going to tell us what the assignment was by the end of the week anyway. I needed a bit more patience, that's all.

By the middle of the week, in spite of my misgivings, I had ideas of what I wanted to write. I loved _The Lion King_ growing up and knew there to be many similarities with it and Hamlet, minus the blood, gore, insanity, and death, plus cute sing-a-long songs.

It would be perfect. We covered Hamlet earlier in the semester, and I got an A on that paper. It was about film adaptations, and I chose Mel Gibson's version. Oh, Mel, how far you've fallen since. This would be a piece of cake.

The middle of that week, I got my Cold War paper back and got an A, which wasn't a surprise. I could've called Fidel Castro a saint, and Professor Stewart would've loved it as long as I used the right tone and style.

NYU was supposed to be this liberally minded school, not stuffy like Yale or Princeton. I chose it because I thought the staff was going to teach me about Truth and Individuality and all these ideals that were so prominently featured in our texts. Instead, I was taught how cheaters always prospered. Year after year, these scholars, these masters of knowledge and wisdom, these adults, made it all about who you knew, not what you fucking did. If this was adulthood, I wanted no part of it. I did not want to resort to Jessica Stanley's methods of success. No fucking way.

I was at the grocery store the same day, buying ingredients for Jacob's dinner on Friday, when I got a text from Jessica.

_**Cocksucking Whore: **Did u decide what ur doing? Not 10 Things right?_

_7:22 PM_

I threw the package of chicken in the cart, pushing it forward. Like I would ever take an idea from her. _The Taming of The Shrew_ as a source was pretty obvious from that movie.

_**Me: **No Im not doing that one. Im doing Hamlet._

_7:25 PM_

I put my phone on silent and stuffed it in the back jeans of my pocket. She was getting on my nerves, and I couldn't lose my mind in front of all the Whole Foods shoppers at Union Square.

I picked up a jar of chopped black olives and another bottle of ketchup. Even though I had enough at home, Jacob would finish the entire bottle in one sitting. He had done it before.

I picked up the sack of potatoes and went over to the cheese section. He liked sharp cheddar cheese only. Then, after a bit of hesitation, I got him a chocolate cake. Whatever the surprise was, it was good. So along with his Jacob Friesapalooza, I got him a cake.

I didn't have to do all of this, I realized. It was his first time in NYC; so, we could have gone out to some fancy sushi place like Nobu. But Jacob was such a good friend to me, my only friend. And I knew him like the back of my hand. He would not want to go out on the town. He was the type of guy who wanted to just stuff his face and chill. My kind of guy... except not. My kind of guy friend, _friend_ being the operative word.

The line for the register was so long, it went down to the bread section I had to pull out my phone to pass the time.

_**Cocksucking whore: **Oh nihilism. Suits u._

_7**:**27 PM_

Bitch.

I deleted the text, and checked my emails. I got one from my dad, online coupons for Home Depot. Great Dad, thanks.

I got another one from another classmate, Alice Brandon. It was an evite to an end of year party. No thanks! I didn't even know why that chick was in school. She never came to class, except for when papers were due and for finals. Word around campus was that she was a dealer making a lot of money off of it, too. She threw these lavish parties at clubs and four-star suites, like the Plaza Hotel. She could've made a living off of throwing parties. She must have been at Tisch as some front so that her parents would send her money. God, I wish I was that lucky. I came here on a scholarship. There was no way Charlie or my mom could pay out of pocket.

I deleted that email and read the next one from the NYU newsletter. It included a list of live performances this weekend, both on and off campus. Luckily for me, The New School had a three-day showing of Hamlet starting this Friday.

I clicked on the link and a picture of the lead popped up on the screen.

I gasped, the people ahead of me turning around. I smiled sheepishly, apologizing and probably turning as red as the bottle of ketchup in my cart. I looked down at the screen again, feasting on the yummyness.

He had this chiseled bone structure, a sharp jaw, bright green eyes, and a shock of thick red hair. He looked a bit loony, which added to my intrigue. Someone must've taken the picture when Hamlet messed around with Polonious, claiming he was a "fish-mongerer." It was funny shit. I could not wait to see this production. I had a feeling it would be good stuff if I was captivated by a picture alone.

As soon as I was done shopping, I took the cross-town bus to 8th Ave. I could've waited until Friday to buy the tickets but didn't want to wait. Something told me it was a show I had to see no matter what.

At the theater, a poster of the lead and a blond castmate who I assumed was Ophelia was on the wall. Their real names weren't included. I noticed they wore the 17th Century clothing, which was unexpected. Every school production of Shakespeare these days attempted to make it as modern as possible. The only way to see the originals was to see Shakespeare in the Park over the summer. They looked so perfect together- Hamlet in black, like Kenneth Branagh, and Ophelia in red and white. They were looking into each others eyes so intensely; it must've been during the "nunnery" scene.

God, they were probably in a relationship off stage. Pretty people tended to date pretty people. I wasn't what you would call pretty in comparison to her. She was doll-like, with porcelain skin and long blond straight hair. All the times they must have rehearsed together...

"Can I help you, miss?" The clerk in the ticket booth asked, startling me.

"Um, yes. Yes, please." I turned around to the booth, going to buy the tickets.

Then, I stopped, remembering the play was on the same night Jacob was coming back. Just being in this theater was like being in a vortex. I totally forgot the rest of my life for a second. I should invite them, I thought. Rather than surprise them, I called Jacob. I didn't want to waste a ticket on Leah if she declined. And I knew Jacob joining me would depend on her interest.

"What's up?"

"Hey, you like Shakespeare, right?"

"When I can understand them, sure. What are we seeing?"

"Hamlet. The one with all-"

"-the blood, and gore, and death, right? Awesome! I'm in. I don't need to understand a word they're saying."

I laughed, although I was still a bit apprehensive about Leah. Then again, he probably would guess what I was about to say anyway.

"What about-"

"She loves Hamlet. It'll be no problem. See you Friday!"

"Wait Jacob!" I raised three fingers for the amount of tickets I wanted it.

"Yeah?"

"You're not marrying her, are you? Please say you're not marrying her!" He had never replied to my text on Sunday and I was having nightmares over it. God, she would be like a... a... sister to me.

"Bella, you have only two more days to find out. Bye."

I grumbled, pissed by this secret. Jacob never kept anything from me. This better be a good secret, dammit.

Or... what... what if Leah was pregnant?

As he printed my receipt, I felt nauseous. That would be the real tragedy.

"Are you okay, miss? You don't look so good."

I shook my head, taking the tickets from him.

"It's nothing that can't be cured in a couple days." I looked up into his dark brown face, trying to smile, Leah's round belly flashing across my mind.

Oh God no.

"A couple days?" His brown eyes grew alarmed.

"No, no, it was a joke. I'm fine." I pushed Leah out of my mind. "Um, have you seen this show?"

"I have. It's good. The lead, Edward, is amazing. He's gonna earn a Tony one of these days."

"Edward..." What an old-fashioned name. It could be my grandfather's.

"You know him?" The guy asked, giving me a wary smile.

"No. I've never seen him before today. Um, is this show almost sold out?"

"Yup. He's bringing the ladies in, lucky son of a bitch. He must feel like he's on top of the world."

He handed me my receipt, telling me to take care before turning back to his computer.

I had so much more to ask, but I doubt if he knew the answers to the rest of my questions.

_Is he single? Does he have children? Does he happen to like brunettes from NYU?_

I went home with this stranger, Edward, in mind. Who was he? Why did he have such a hold on me? I knew nothing about him for goodness sakes. And boy, did I have a lot of time to daydream. My commute was an hour to my shitty neighborhood in Brooklyn.

There were nice parts, don't get me wrong. I didn't know there were any at all when I first got here. Sex and the City didn't depict all of New York in all its rich intricate flavor, leaving Brooklyn in its final season to sound like some bastard child. Not that I was a big fan or anything... watching it every single Sunday in high school. But I got off the plane with my dad three years ago and was rudely awakened. You needed a lot of money to live like that. That show forgot to mention that little minor detail.

Brooklyn was not all bad, though. Park Slope was beautiful. I liked going to Prospect Park for a bike ride or a concert sometimes during the summer. But I lived like twenty minutes further down in Crown Heights, i.e. not Park Slope. If I was coming home at night, I had to speed walk from the train. My apartment was just gross. It was roach infested and stifling during the summer. And the heat was temperamental in the winter; if it felt like working, it did. If it wanted to take a break, it would go off for a couple of days without warning. It was such a little temperamental diva.

I usually dreaded going home because of all of this. No matter how many times I've decorated and redecorated the place, it would never be my home. I did not belong here. I didn't know where I belonged, but it wasn't here.

Tonight, though, none of that bothered me. The more I thought about Edward, this actor whom I knew nothing about, the more my body ached for him. It was really as if the picture in the newsletter had a spell on it, as if Edward put a hex on us all.

And the more I thought about him, the more I had a strange, but potent, feeling that after Friday night, my life was about to change forever.

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**A/N**:

**Bye. :)**


	3. Chapter 2 All Dust

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 2- All Dust**

**April 29, 2010**

Later that week, I dreamed of Edward's red hair. I sat on his lap, running my hands through its soft thickness as he gazed up into my eyes. He grinned, whispering a sonnet into my ear about everlasting love in this lovely British accent:

_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

He sounded like Joseph Fiennes in _Shakespeare In Love_: pure ear candy.

I swooned as he reached the last line, tilting my head for a kiss.

Suddenly, I heard a door swing open behind us, slamming against the wall. When I turned to see who it was, Leah wobbled toward us... nine months pregnant. She wore this lavender muumuu and her hair was in disarray. Smoke and a bright white light filtered in from behind her, her dark eyes shiny from tears. She opened her mouth and said words that were more frightening than the image before us.

"My water broke."

Fucking hell. Talk about an edge of doom.

_"Cause if you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it!_

_If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!_

_Don't be mad cause he said that he want it._

_If you like it, then you should put a ring on it!"_

I heard my phone's ringtone blare in my ear and grumbled, sitting up in a dazed.

_It was a dream, just a dream._

Oh Beyonc___é_. This song was so played out. I needed to change the ringtone.

I picked up my cell phone from the nightstand, rubbing my eyes to check for the caller.

It was Jacob.

No way could Leah be pregnant. No way.

I tapped "Accept," and went right for it.

"Hey, Jake. She's not pregnant, is she?"

"What?" He sounded startled. A bit too startled...

"Jacob, quit being so cryptic. Tell me the truth, now. Tell me she's not pregnant. I won't be able to take it if its true."

"Yes, we're going to have octuplets in December. Then, TLC will feature us on a show, and Leah will be on _Dancing with the Stars_ with that scary Maksim dude."

I laughed hard, smacking my forehead. God, eight Leahs running around was not a future I would ever want to see exist. Jacob continued muttering while I laughed, definitely not as amused. I cut the laughter short, clearing my throat.

"Um, before I forget, Billy says hi. And no, he won't tell you. So, don't even try it."

"OK, fine. Jeez, you're in a crabby mood for someone coming to the Big Apple for the first time."

"Yeah, well, a lot has happened in the past few hours that has made this trip a nightmare."

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it. Just wanted to tell you that our plans have changed a little. We won't get to see you until six."

"What, why?" I got out of bed, walking to the bathroom to turn on my faucet. It took a good five minutes for it to warm up, so, I went over to my shower and turned that on. That took only a couple of minutes to warm up by comparison.

"Don't worry about it. Whoa, are you at the Niagara Falls? What is that sound?"

"Haha, no. It's my morning ritual. Dude, I don't like how you've been keeping all these things from me over the last week. What is your deal?"

"It's all for a good reason. Trust me."

"So, you did get signed?"

"No, I'm on my way to New York to try for American Idol."

"Humph." I tested the water. It was still cold. What a surprise. "So, which airport are you flying into? I'll take a cab in to pick you up."

"Oh, don't bother," Jacob said, exasperated. "Um, I'll meet you at your place."

"No, silly. I'll pick you up."

"Bella, for once, listen to me. I'll catch a cab from the... airport, OK?"

Hesitation? He was keeping something else from me. "I swear, now I feel like you've joined the CIA or some shit."

"Yep, that's it," he laughed with a bitter edge, and I began playing with my hair. Maybe it was bad news after all... I'll see you in a few hours."

"Alright, see you tonight."

I hung up, checking the shower again. Scalding hot. I turned the faucet off, adjusting temperature of the water to warm.

I showered, my worry for Jacob's surprise growing with each passing moment.

What if he was dying? No. No, he could not be dying! He said it would be good news.

What if Leah was dying? I shook my head as I toweled my hair dry. That would be good news for me, not for Jacob. I snickered.

Maybe he was moving to New York City? Maybe he was coming to school here, too? I brushed my teeth, enjoying that prospect. He was never into going to college. He wanted to be a singer/songwriter for four years now. But maybe Billy made him change his mind? The music business was so precarious these days. People weren't even one-hit wonders anymore. You were either Justin Beiber or nobody.

I spit out the toothpaste and rinsed. Opening the medicine cabinet to grab some floss, this 5-inch monstercockroach sped up from behind the sink and into the shower like speedy Gonzalez. I jumped back and ran out of the bathroom. I struggled to catch my breath and cursed the fact that this was my other morning ritual in the summer months: killing pests.

Waterbugs were the bane of my existence. I was deathly afraid of them all my life. And it wasn't until recently that I decided to conquer my fear and take them head on by calling them monstercockroaches. I know it sounded silly. But I had a deep appreciation of monstercocks for years and rebranding the pests in this image helped me overcome that crippling fear, finally. I wished didn't have to see those monstercockroaches two months ahead of schedule.

According to the landlord, the pipes got hot from June until September. The very same pipes where these damn waterbugs lived and bred. But because of the heat wave a couple of weeks ago, they started coming out of the woodwork now. So, every morning for the last two weeks, I've had to put my brave face on and wipe roach guts off the bathroom floor. Every morning.

I grabbed my galoshes, slipping them on... my arms. They were always up on the tiles, I swear to God. I was about to get Buffy the Vampire Slayer on that sucker. No way was he getting out of that bathroom alive.

The search went on for five minutes, looking under the sink, in the tub, behind the toilet. Nothing. Then, just as I was about to give up, I saw it behind the door, scrambling up the walls.

"Fucking asshole!" I screeched, slamming the heel of my left pair right into its core. It fell to the floor squirming when I bent down and squished it again.

"You wanna fuck with me? You fucking with the best!"

Wait, that wasn't Buffy's line: that was something from _Scarface_.

Damn, I needed to move.

Gosh, it would be nice to have a real friend in this cold, lonely, infested city.

I gathered my things, heading into the city for my Shakespeare class. I mused about taking the train with Jacob to a movie or having lunch with him every once in a while... Then, I realized we would never be alone.

Leah. Christ. How would I deal with _that_ everyday?

As I was about to descend the stairs into the train station, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Jessica.

_**Cocksucking Whore: **__The moment of truth. I bet u dont even believe me._

_10:25 AM_

_**Me**__: I do. Already started working on it._

_10:26 AM_

_**Cocksucking Whore: **__Really? Me 2. Try not to gape when u see that I was right._

_10:27 AM_

_**Me**__: Sure, yeah, whatever. Thx_

_10:28 AM_

I needed to move and change my phone number.

I went into the station, losing reception as soon as I reached the turnstiles. Perfect. She would be out of sight and out of mind for an hour, which is how long it took to get to school from here.

I pulled out my copy of Hamlet, reading through the second act, imagining the fiery-haired stranger reciting it in that British accent I had in my dream.

_I have of late—but wherefore_

_I know not—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of_

_exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my_

_disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to_

_me a sterile promontory..._

Damn. No matter how many times I read this, it was always so depressing. Considering my current living situation, I couldn't help but relate. And later, when he talks about "this quintessence of dust," dealing with Jessica, my lame professors, and Leah, I felt like I was surrounded by dust. All dust.

Thank God for Jacob.

Despite my morning ritual, I got to class ten minutes early. I sat up front. I liked to sit there so my professors saw me. It was so easy to be anonymous in this school and this city, to be looked over. Half of your job as a student was to make sure your professors remembered you. Otherwise, you would be a social security number.

A couple of minutes later, Jessica sat directly beside me as usual. There was a poisonous cloud of Angel perfume around her, and I had to take bated breaths to remain lucid. She lifted her curly hair off her shoulders, fanning her bare sweaty neck and shoulders in an extremely dramatic and annoying way.

"Hi Bella! How'd you do on the Civil War paper?"

"Not bad," I sighed, trying to play it off. "You?"

"Hah!" She quickly dropped her thick, shiny straight-as-a-board brown hair. "What do you think?" She asked with some hesitance, shifting her eyes. I cocked an eyebrow, my interest a bit piqued. Did she really fail that paper? She could've written that garbage in her sleep. Her dad was a general for Christ's sakes.

I could not let the suspicion get the better of me, though. So, I stopped myself. Having conversations with her in person was the ultimate torture. She would never shut the fuck up once she started.

Thankfully, Professor Evans arrived, and she folded her hands like a prim and proper cocksucking whore.

After an hour of listening to Evans complain about Elizabeth Taylor's performance in _The Taming of the Shrew_, he walked over to his desk for the final.

"I should've bet money on this. You would have surely lost," Jessica said from the side of her mouth.

Flipping through my textbook of essays on Hamlet, I paid her no mind. I would need a few essays for the paper, which I knew Jessica knew about all along. It was silly to discuss it. I wanted to write it and be done with it.

"Alright everyone, here's the final paper," Evans said while pulling out four copies of the assignment. "Shouldn't be tough for those who bothered to hand in all term papers to date," he said, cocking an eyebrow at Erik Yorke, who sat directly behind me. Damn. Evans loved making a bad example of students in front of the whole class. It was pretty fucking lame, usually. In this case, it was well-deserved. Erik came to class maybe five times the entire semester. He couldn't pass this class if he offered to suck Evans's dick.

Evans handed it to me first. I smirked to myself, but hoped Jessica caught it. _That's right, bitch. He likes me best._

I passed it behind me to Erik, quickly scanning the print:

_Choose a Shakespearean play, tragedy or comedy, and compose a comparative analysis with a mainstream film of the 20th Century. Include inaccuracies and probable causes. 15 pages, Times New Roman, 12 pt font, double spaced, MLA standard._

_Due May 21, 2010 12:15 p.m._

What a surprise.

By the time I finished skimming, Jessica glanced at me and grinned like a Cheshire cat with a belly full of fish.

"You should worship me."

"Oh really? For something that I knew was coming?" I whispered, watching Evans walk up the steps to the back row to a student who had a question. That would take a while. Lauren was an idiot. "It's not like this is terribly difficult. Half of the class will ace it."

I crossed my arms, feeling Erik's eyes on us. He wore his dainty eyeglasses today, his eyes like a hawk's. He wanted in on Jessica's information about the final. Jessica noticed, too, smiling ironically. Everyone knew she had connections, and she knew that they knew. I was just lucky enough (actually, unlucky enough) to be in her chosen circle.

"Doubt it," she said. "But you want to make sure _you_ ace it, Bella."

She pulled out her IPhone with the glittery pink case, typing into it quickly.

I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket as soon as she hit send. Whatever was in the text had to be big news if Jessica wouldn't say it aloud. When I turned around in my seat to read it, my eyes met Erik's. He looked down quickly at his assignment.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Erik, I promise it won't be interesting in the least."

I pulled the phone out, my hands shaking. Sitting forward again, I navigated through the menus on my phone under my tabletop until I got to the message. Damn, this was better than I could've ever imagined.

_**Cocksucking whore**__: Because the rest of the class doesn't know that the top 2 scores will be given a recommendation for the New Yorker internship this summer._

_1:37 PM_

_Lucky_ enough, it seemed... unless she was blowing hot air... maybe... probably not.

_Wow!_

I slid my phone into my back pocket, trying not to freak out.

I had wanted to intern at a respectable magazine for three years, now. The _New Yorker_ would be a dream. The potential for a job opportunity was to die for, especially in this shitty economy. And Evans used to be an editor there. His recommendation would mean an automatic in.

Now, I was fretful of this entire situation. Did she want something from me?

"Opportunity of a lifetime, isn't it?"

I heard Erik's chair squeak against the floor. He must have been salivating like a dog. I did not pay him any attention this time. This news was too big. I leaned toward Jessica, speaking in a strained whisper.

"Why are you really telling me all of this? You know I loathe you."

"I'm in the Easter spirit," she replied quickly, checking her bright red manicured nails. "Besides, the last few years have been hard on you: always second best. I thought it was time to give back."

I rolled my eyes. "OK, Mother Theresa. But what's the real reason?"

She looked up at me, her brown eyes playful. "You have friends in high places, Bella, be grateful. You might not be so lucky next year."

_What the hell did that mean? She wasn't even my friend now. _

"Any other questions?" I heard Professor Evans ask directly behind me. I jumped up in my seat, mortified_. It's just Evans. He heard nothing, and there was nothing to hear._ I covered my blushing face, trying to calm my beating heart.

"Bella, do you have a question?" Evans asked, walking down to face me. He removed his glasses, his hazel eyes looking directly into mine.

"No, I'm fine. I'm ready to write this paper."

"Good," he said, smiling at me. He was one of the younger professors on staff. From a certain angle, he looked like Billy Zane, the prick fiancé in Titanic, but with better hair. He put his glasses back on, glancing around the classroom. "If only the rest of your classmates shared your enthusiasm. See you all next week."

I ignored Jessica on my way out, rushing back home to prepare dinner. Jacob's Friesapalooza takes a couple of hours, at least, and I wanted to spend a few hours working on the paper before cooking. I had to spend every waking moment prepping for this if it meant an internship at the _New Yorker_.

When I got home, I made a list of the arcs and themes that I needed to pay attention to tonight. I thanked my lucky stars I did not have to go to work. The full scholarship gave me a free ride. There would be no way I could juggle school and work. I wasn't good at multitasking. In fact, it was one reason why I was still a "single lady," I was afraid a relationship would take up all of my time. That was something Charlie cautioned me against, anyway.

I had one year of school left. I could have all the relationships in the world after next year. Now, it had to be about me.

I was in the middle of sautéing the chicken to a crisp black when I got a text from Jacob.

_**Jake**__: Half an hour away._

_5:15 PM_

Oh God, here we go. Here we go with the news.

My hands started shaking on the saucepan's handle. I stopped, took a deep breath and wiped it on my apron.

_It's gonna be about his music. He just signed a record contract; I know it._

About half an hour later, I set the table for three. I was rinsing out the glasses when I heard my doorbell. The glass slipped from my hand and into the sink, making me jump. _Dammit, get a hold of yourself, Bella._

I pulled my apron off, my heart beating out of my chest. _ It better be good news. It better be good news, dammit._

I unlocked the five locks, hating this entire neighborhood all the more for keeping me away from Jake and his news.

I swung the heavy door open, seeing him at the threshold with a toothy smile on his face. Alone?

"Bella!" Jacob exclaimed, opening his arms. I ran to him.

"Jacob!" He hugged me, lifting me up from the floor and spun me around. _Ooh, where was Leah? Was she stuck in Forks? Was that why he was so grouchy this morning?_

"It's so good to see you, finally!" Jacob murmured in my hair. _Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cut the crap._

I slapped his shoulder. "Tell me! What is the news! Tell me this second, or I will burst!"

"Haha, alright alright." He sighed dramatically, and I pushed his shoulders so that he could set me down to the floor.

"Jacob!"

"I got signed!"

"Whoa, what? Seriously?" I fought to catch my breath, his sudden bear hug squeezing all the air out of my body. I became a little lightheaded. "Jacob! Jacob, I can't breathe!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." He gently loosened his hold.

"Yeah, you guessed right on Sunday," he said laughing. "Can't keep anything from you."

I grinned, looking over his shoulder surreptitiously for Leah. Nope, nothing. _Yes, she wasn't coming! Maybe she was at their hotel, refusing to see me. Perfect! I have my friend all to myself._

"I'm going on a promo tour thing this summer and heading for the recording studio in September," Jacob continued with his news. "You should've seen Billy, Bella! He told everyone on the reservation!"

"Oh, and he couldn't tell me? You jerk!" I said, relieved and giddy. I walked over to the door to shut it. "I bet I was right about Charlie knowing too, wasn't I?" I laughed, pushing it closed when Jacob motioned for me to stop.

_What the fuck? Shit, don't tell me bitch from the seventh circle of hell was on her way still? Shit! No, no, no, no!_

"Bella, what do you think you're doing?" He cocked his eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"Jacob..." I frowned, holding out hope that I was wrong about this particular guess. "...I saw you were alone, so-"

"Nope, I'm not alone. I hope you have enough for three. Leah will be here in ten minutes."

* * *

**A/N:** William Shakespeare Sonnet 116 "Let me not to the marriage of true minds"

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds_

_Admit impediments. Love is not love_

_Which alters when it alteration finds,_

_Or bends with the remover to remove:_

_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

_It is the star to every wandering bark,_

_Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come:_

_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

_If this be error and upon me proved,_

_I never writ, nor no man ever loved._

**Bye. :)**


	4. Chapter 3 Blood Blood Brains

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3- Blood. Blood. Brains. More Brains.**

"She's coming," Jacob said simply. Leah was coming after all. Fuck.

Turning around to pull his jacket off, he put it on a hook on my coat rack. He wore this thin teal t-shirt that was like saran wrap around the muscles on his back and arms. "She's downstairs picking something up for _you_ because she wanted to be a nice guest and thank you for the dinner you're making us. Damn Bella. I've been with her off and on for like seven years. Enough is enough. I want this pettiness to stop."

I slammed the door shut, ready to go off on him. I was not the one who cheated on him with Paul, not to mention lying to his face for months about it. He never had a problem complaining about it to me, though, every goddamn day in high school. Yet still, she was an angel in his eyes.

"Pettiness? You like being lied to, then? Deceived?"

"Bella, we were kids. Let it go! I have."

"Once a cheater, Jake."

"Where the fuck is dinner?" he asked, ignoring me like he always did whenever that word came up. He rolled his eyes, brushing against my shoulder, stomping through the apartment like he fucking lived there.

"Ugh, you can be such an asshole sometimes," I muttered. I followed him to the kitchen, hearing his sniffs and sighs as he got closer to the food.

"Oh shit!" He turned to me, the irritation that had caused his shoulders to tense up easing. "You didn't make what I think you made, did you?"

I shrugged, hurrying in front of him before he reached the stove.

"You'll see." I slapped his hand away from the handle. He whined again like a child, frowning. I laughed at him.

"You _do_ wish to be a gentleman and await your lady's presence before eating dinner, yes?"

"Fine, fine. You _will_ try not to be a bitch to her, yes?" He opened my refrigerator door, pulling out three bottles of Cokes.

"When have I ever been one to play nice to someone I despise?"

"Fuck!" He slammed the Cokes down on my counter. "Grow up! You think I like her dad, Harry? That loser? Fuck no! But I care about his daughter, and I smile and joke about his nasty fish fry just to appease him. It's what adults _do_when they care about someone— compromise."

I rolled my eyes at him, snatching the Coke from his hand. I yanked off the cap with a bottle opener. He reached for the bottle opener, but I threw it in the sink.

"You can be such a bitch, sometimes," he said, laughing, going after it in the sink.

"Well, it is my apartment, isn't it? I can be however I want. And if she doesn't like it, then she can go to hell. That goes for you, too."

He shook his head, taking a swig. "She really makes me happy. Don't you see that? I don't think I will ever meet another girl like her."

"What are you talking about? You're only 19 and she's 21. You don't know what else could be out there for you." I downed half of the bottle.

"I don't have to know," Jacob whispered sadly.

"Jacob-"

"You don't understand what it feels like, yet," he murmured, looking away. "You've never been in love, Bella."

God, that hurt. He was right. But that didn't matter. She betrayed him. How could she do that if she loved him?

"I would never do that to someone I loved, Jake. You wouldn't either."

"You are such an idealist. You have no idea what you would do in her situation."

"I would never _be_ in her situation. I'm not a-"

Suddenly, I heard my front door swing open, and my heart froze. I did not have the friendliest neighbors. A couple of months ago, someone banged on my front door for hours before I heard a round of gunshots. I have always been grateful that my mom left me her apartment when she went off for London three years ago. Really, I have. But she had the most rotten neighbors in the world.

"Relax, it's just Leah," Jacob said, picking up on my anxiety.

"You assume that since you don't know the crack addict who lives across the hall." I raced for the hallway, seeing Jacob from my peripheral vision lifting the lid to the saucepan.

"Woo hoo!" I heard him cheer when I saw who it was.

There she stood, Leah Clearwater, every bit as beautiful today as she was the last time I saw her three years ago. Her thick jet-black hair fell in waves over her bare shoulders, her deep brown eyes electric as they raked over my body.

"Did you know that you live in the shittiest neighborhood in New York City?" she stood there, mildly disgusted, holding a huge bottle of Manischewitz to her hip. What a great gift from a great guest: cheap white wine.

Leah straightened her cherry red strapless dress. Then, she frowned, shoving the wine at me, walking past me, her platform sandals slapping against my wooden floor.

I closed the door behind her, locking the three latches on top and turning the two locks on the bottom to the left. If only I had done this ten minutes ago.

Someone was trying way too hard, as out-of-towners tended to do when they came here. That dress screamed corner of 42nd St. hooker. I admit, I did the same thing freshman year. Well, tried too hard, not tried to be a slut. I breathed, slept, ate, showered, and fucked with my bright red lipstick on. I swore I was Gwen Stefani for at least six months. And Leah probably thought she was Beyoncé in this red dress. Ugh. Idiot. Yet, here she stood, pointing her nose down at me like she could shit diamonds.

"Not a decent bottle of wine in that entire shit hole. Thank God the record company got us a hotel room, and we don't have to stay here."

I wouldn't let her stay here in my "shit hole" even if Jacob got down on his knees and begged me. And I wish I could get defensive about my apartment, but she was right, which made me despise her even more. I twisted the bottle in my hands with half a mind to bust her head open with it. The image of her blood and brains dampening her beautiful hair made me feel a tad better. I would have to keep that in mind throughout dinner just to stay sane.

Jacob groaned loud enough for us to hear, sounding like his mouth was stuffed with food. I rolled my eyes. Not ten minutes ago, he was the one talking about growing up.

"What the hell did you do to him?" she asked, glaring at me.

"Nothing except satisfy him in a way you never will." I had no idea where the hell that came from. I never had an interest in Jacob- ever. But this bitch? She always brought the worst out in me.

Blood. Blood. Brains. More brains.

"Excuse me? You wish, Isabella!" And she knew I hated when people called me that!

"What is your problem? You don't have to be here. Leave!"

"Without Jacob?" She looked down at me, snatching the wine back from my grasp. "Have you had enough, Jake?" She called out to him, putting her fists to her hips.

I heard him shuffle some things around in the kitchen before peeking around the wall to us.

"What's going on?" he asked, innocently. And I had to bust out laughing.

He had ketchup all over his mouth, holding a forkful of fries and chicken, dripping with cheese. He joined in my laughter, then took a bite from the fork.

"Can you two get your asses in here so we can eat this delicious food? It's time to celebrate!"

I looked her up and down, grinning at him, forgetting about her. Fuck her.

When I looked around the corner, my kitchen was a disaster zone. There were pieces of charred chicken on the floor, jalapeno peppers and olives all over the table.

"Jacob!" I started laughing harder as he stabbed another piece of chicken from the frying pan.

"You're such a pig, Jake," she said, nagging him. As if she gave a shit. I glanced over my shoulder, annoyed at her feigned disappointment. She could earn an Academy Award for being fake. In 2011, Jake will win Grammys, and she will win Oscars.

"Bella doesn't mind. You don't mind. Right, Bella?" he asked, picking up a napkin and wiping his mouth.

I walked over to Jake who looked passed me, olling his eyes. I walked past him, slapping his chest with the back of my hand.

"As long as there's chicken for me. Is there?" I looked in the pan, not even seeing a tablespoon left. "Jacob!"

"You know you don't like it burnt," he said sheepishly.

"Jacob, that is so rude of you," Leah whined, speaking for me yet again. So, I countered her.

"It's perfectly fine, Jake," I said, grinning at him smugly. "I'm not that hungry anyway. Let's head into the city. If we want good seats, we should get to The New School early."

"Are you sure, Bella?" Jake asked. "I don't want to leave you with this when you get back. Leah and I have to head back to our room after the show. I have another early meeting with A&R."

"It's not that bad. I'll do it tomorrow. Let's just go."

"Actually, that sounds perfect, Bella," Leah chimed in, heading for the door already. "I am in the mood for murder."

***blood blood brains more brains.***

During our cab ride in, Leah would not stop bragging about their hotel. She was worse than Jessica tonight. Never in my life had I imagined a person could shoot forth more hot air than Jessica Stanley.

Blood. Blood. Brains. More brains. Dammit, it wasn't working.

The cab ride started out well enough. Jacob explained why he didn't want me to pick him up at the airport. The record company wanted him to sign the contracts as soon as he got off the plane. And they discussed tomorrow's itinerary, which would include a tour of the city and meetings with other tour managers, PR, and agents. He was so excited and had so many ideas for songs for his album already. He wanted it to be a concept album about youth. It was refreshing to be around that positive creative energy. There was none of that at Tisch.

But then Leah swooped in and sucked all of the positivity right out of the cab. She went on and on about how the hotel was across the street from a _real_ Wine & Spirits, how their hallways did not smell like piss, how they had a view of the Empire State Building, instead of a brick wall— which was when she looked into my eyes with so much pity, I could've been a bald child with leukemia and 8 hours to live. And I can't forget that there was an elevator, complete with muzak and big enough to fit 20 people. Literally, I heard this for the entire ride. When she said she loved how the streets on 53rd weren't littered with garbage and crack pipes, I wanted to grab her tongue, rip it out of her mouth, then slap her across the face with it. But I could not do it even if I tried because Jacob sat between us, agreeing with everything she said like a little pussy.

What irked me the most about her yammering was that she was NOT the snooty type. Back home, she was a jeans and t-shirts, chugging Heinekens at baseball games kind of girl. Her high-falutin attitude tonight was so uncharacteristic because she wanted me to look bad. And even though I tried not to let it get to me, it was working. She was right. My neighborhood was shitty.

"Woe is me" as Ophelia said in _Hamlet_. If she had to sit in this car with Leah, she probably would have jumped out of the window. But I was not suicidal, dammit. And I could not let Leah drive me crazy. Jacob was not going to see me be the bitch to her so that he would never speak to me again.

We were about five minutes away from Bank St. when Leah asked Jake if they could go to a _real_ Broadway show when they got back to New York in the Fall.

Tongue. Charred. Like. Jacob's. Chicken.

Subconsciously, I started humming my favorite song growing up.***** Jake recognized it immediately and started chuckling. Then, he covered his mouth quickly.

"What? What's so funny?" Leah asked. We stopped at a light, and she glared at me, the red light filtering from her window like blood.

I laughed a little too hard at that, glad to see my wish of the night come true in some way, which caused Jacob to start laughing again and made me laugh more, as usual.

Leah fumed. "Jacob Black!"

He stopped laughing, leaving me to giggle alone. I sighed listening to Jacob apologize to her when the light changed to green.

"You sure know how to keep your man in check," I told Leah as we drove on.

"You have to these days. They never know what's good for them." She turned to Jacob, rubbing his knee. "You will tell me what she was humming later."

He didn't respond, but I saw him nod once before checking his cell phone.

I did not know how Jacob took being spoken to like a child. It was so disheartening. I did not want to be in a relationship with a guy like that or with a guy who treated me like that... if I ever found one. This city had either gay guys, taken guys, or douchebags. Edward must've fallen into one of those categories. Or maybe all three? I shivered.

"Jacob, why don't you tell her what it is?" I asked when we pulled up to the curb. The driver had asked for the fare and despite my offering, Jacob paid it.

"I'll tell her." He hesitated, looking at Leah. "In private." Leah blushed, looking down at her hands, which Jacob took hold of and squeezed. "Let's get inside. This shit is gonna be good."

Wow, he turned that around on her. They were made for each other, then. He deserved her. The nice boys always go for the bitches, didn't they? Leah and Jessica, two queen bitches, were on top of the world, and where was I? In a shitty apartment, alone, and bitter and cynical as hell.

I needed to get laid.

Jacob and Leah held hands into the building, all the way up to the third floor, and as we stood on line waiting to be seated. I was the third wheel, officially. _Great idea inviting two lovers out to a play without a date for yourself_,_ Bella._

I asked the usher for three programs, eager to learn more about the star besides his first name and that he had the most beautiful green eyes in the world. When I handed Jacob and Leah their programs, they put them away and started speaking to each other as if I wasn't there. If I went home, I doubt they would notice. Hell, if I stripped naked and did a little jig, they wouldn't notice, either.

The program was only two pages, so there was no room for a bio. But when I flipped into the second page, I did see that he had a last name: Cullen.

Edward Cullen. Wow. It rolled off the tongue like a smooth cognac.

We walked into the theater which was filling up quickly. Jacob sat between Leah and me again, thank goodness. I sat closest to the aisle, our center floor seats perfect. We wouldn't miss a thing. Then, I pulled out my book to take notes between acts.

The lights dimmed, and the audience erupted in an enthusiastic applause. It made sense that they did, half of them were women. And not just that, they were all dressed to the nines, like Leah. All for Edward, like the guy at the ticket window said earlier this week. What a sad bunch. I bet he was gay. He wasn't dating Ophelia; I bet he was dating Horatio.

I wore blue jeans and a sleeveless white blouse from Forever21. I didn't have any makeup on and my hair was up in a ponytail. I was here to work, not find a husband... or so I kept telling myself. This _was_ the prettiest blouse I owned.

Act I scene i was a drag, but it left Leah speechless which was nice. I wished The Lion King started out with the ghost of Mufasa. James Earl Jones could have been great scaring little kids shitless. He did it as Darth Vader, after all. The actor playing King Hamlet was pretty damn scary. I think he was the reason why Leah was so silent.

As soon as the first scene ended, the girls in front of me pulled out their lip-gloss and mirrors to check their hair. It would be a miracle if Edward were able to see anyone in the audience; the lights on stage were too bright for him to see us. But then he appeared in the second scene, and I understood their foolishness completely.

Without uttering a word, since all of the commotion surrounded King Claudius, all of my attention went to Edward. Suspicion and tempered disgust radiated from his face and tense arms and fists. And when he started his soliloquy, I stopped breathing.

I was transfixed by him, just like I felt when I saw his picture in the newsletter. No one else existed. In fact, I felt like I didn't exist.

His eyes shone like beacons and his voice was a rich baritone that echoed across the seats. He had a British accent like the other actors, but this one was believable. Was he British, really? Fuck, this was like my dream guy come true. There was nothing sexier than a British accent.

He moved so comfortably around the stage as if it were his home or even a temple. And the black period costume fit him perfectly, like a condom... er, a glove. When I wasn't captivated by his eyes, I was staring at his tights.

He stood a little left of center near the end of the soliloquy, looking into the audience as if he were speaking to everyone in the front row. I began to feel like sitting in the fourth row was hell in comparison. Thinking of the audience pulled me out of the shock from his presence. And as Horatio, Marcellus and Bernardo entered stage left, I exhaled... and heard the two girls in front of me exhale as well.

Whoa, what was that? What the fuck was that? What was going on with me?

I shook my head, barely paying attention to the rest of the scene. I hardly remembered any of his soliloquy. I was lost through the rest of Act I and grateful for the two minute break before Act II. The last thing that I could remember was how well his tights fit him.

The lights came on and the chatter of the audience rolled through the theater.

"Wow, this guy sucks. I can't wait to see him die at the end," Jacob yawned, glancing at Leah before looking at me with this silly grin on his face.

"Very mature, Jacob," I heard Leah say. "He's good. You're just jealous." But none of their statements registered with me. I couldn't help but feel dazed since Edward left the stage. I needed to see him again, and I was pissed there would be such a long wait. Act II scene i was all about Ophelia. I wanted to see Edward in his insanity, not Ophelia whine about it. Yes, Ophelia. He's crazy. Now get on with your life.

"Hey Bella," Jacob asked, bending over toward the floor. "You dropped your book."

"What?" I hadn't even noticed. He handed it to me. "Thank you, Jake."

"Hey, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"She has," Leah piped in, snickering

I rubbed my forehead, nodding. "I guess I didn't expect the show to be this good."

The lights flickered and the chatter of the audience died down to a hushed whisper.

I looked at the two girls seated in front of me, sending texts on their phones and giggling about something. Did they know Edward? Maybe he was fucking them, Ophelia, and Horatio? Oh, fuck me.

"What do you think of him, Bella?" Jacob asked.

"Huh?" I thought I saw the words, "See you later, lover" on the phone's screen when they put it away. Damn, I have no chance with this guy, whatsoever. Who was I fooling? He was surrounded by girls who looked like supermodels and probably fucked like porn stars. I needed to crawl under a rock and die... or at least attempt to concentrate on the play again.

"What do you think of the guy playing Hamlet?" Jacob asked again.

"Umm, I don't know. I... I'll have to see more of him."

Ophelia was perfectly whiny and worried. The actor playing Polonius, who looked 15 and so silly wearing a gray beard, was putting a comedic edge to his delivery that was actually quite brilliant. He had great chemistry with Ophelia, too. In fact, the whole cast had great chemistry, especially with Edward.

I was fidgeting in my seat before the second scene, anxious for those green eyes again when I heard Jacob groan.

"Dude, don't even start," I said.

"What? I'm not starting anything."

"I know how you are when you don't see enough blood in anything. It's coming, alright? Patience," I said using the same word he used on me Sunday.

"No, it's not that. I feel weird."

"What? What's wrong?"

"It's... nothing. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Leah asked him, rubbing his shoulders.

"Yeah, I am _not_ missing the rest of the play just because I feel a little off. I'm fine."

The second scene began, and I still could not concentrate. I stared at the side stage the entire time, waiting for him to carry in the book, for him to fall over himself and look like a half-wit on cocaine. All this talking the others did of him was frustrating beyond anything I had ever experienced.

"Come on, Edward," I whispered without meaning to. _Oh great, Bella._ But no one heard me. I held my breath until finally, he appeared.

His hair disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, his stocking ripped, it was kind of hot and unconventional. His pale face shone under the white light from sweat and his eyes had that mania I remembered from the e-newsletter.

He looked like he had just been fucked hard.

POLONIUS: _O, give me leave._

HAMLET: _Well, God-a-mercy._

POLONIUS: _Do you know me, my lord?_

HAMLET: _Excellent well; you are a fishmonger._

The audience erupted in hysterical laughter. And the great thing was, as he played to the audience in previous scenes, he played to us here as if he was doing stand up. Was he funny in real life, too?

_Damn, I should've tried harder dressing up tonight. Damn Bella, no wonder you're single._

The rest of the scene was phenomenal. It was better than any production I had ever seen. I wished there was a bit of this in The Lion King too when Rosencrantz and Guildenstern joined them on stage.

Near the middle of that interchange, Edward reached a line and stopped. He shook his head, starting again from the beginning... then stopped again.

Jacob muttered, "Oh shit!"

The entire theater was silent. I was too stunned to realize this was real. For a long time, I thought it was a part of the insanity act: sudden memory loss. But when he started the third time, my brain went into overdrive, and I knew the exact line he had trouble with: it was what I had read this morning on the train, about human beings being the quintessence of dust.

So, he went into the line again:

HAMLET: _I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent _

_Your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and _

_Queen moult no feather. I have of late— but wherefore _

_I know not— lost all my mirth..._

And he stopped again, turning and facing Rosencrantz, I think silently begging him to go on to the next line. But I knew Hamlet's next line. And before a thought, I stood up:

"...forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory…"

I said it quickly, like a stream of consciousness. And around "disposition," he joined in, looking me right in the eye, and completed the entire line.

I stood until he was done, unable to move, his eyes never leaving mine. So many emotions ran through them as he walked to the edge of the stage, grateful, relieved, and yet still in character, still despondent.

When Rosencrantz continued with the scene, Edward turned to him. I still stood up, in a daze, waiting for our eyes to reconnect, but there was too much going on in this scene for that to happen. Suddenly, I heard a few claps from the people around me and someone pulled me down roughly onto my seat.

"Bella, sit down!" It was Jacob.

I took a deep breath, feeling my face get hot. Everyone, from the two supermodels in front of me to the people across the aisle looked at me. Then, the last five minutes flooded my mind as if I were watching myself in a movie. I dropped my head in between my knees.

"Oh Christ!" Quite possibly, that was the geekiest thing I could've ever done. And in this get up? I shared a moment with that beautiful talented man in the worst possible way. I bet the connection was all in my head. _He must think I'm a loser. I know it._

"Bells, they have people to feed him lines if he forgets. You didn't have to do that," Jacob groaned, bending over to pick up my notebook again. I sat up, taking it from him and tossing it behind me. Then, I dropped my face into my hands and sighed.

"I know. I know. I just... I had to do it..."

I could not look up at the stage again, even when he went into the final soliloquy of the scene, his voice pounding in my ears and flooding my brain. He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I had no idea who this man was, except that he was incredible. I did not understand the connection I had to him at all and a part of me was afraid of it.

_None of this is real, Bella. Get yourself together. Edward isn't this deep, caring, funny, thoughtful person you have concocted. He's _married _to Horatio, dammit._

When the lights came on for another two-minute break, I could not take another second of everyone's stares and ran out of there.

I needed some fresh air... and a drink... or ten.

I ran down the stairs and outside the building, the hot air like fire in my lungs. I bent forward, putting my hands on my knees.

God, his eyes! His eyes could not get out of my head. And some dude was smoking up-wind from me, filling my lungs with his rank ash. I suffocated on the smoke and my memories of Edward. I could not catch my breath.

"Aren't you that chick that stood up in the auditorium? That was fucking weird!" The guy said before taking another drag. He laughed then his phone rang before I could respond. Asswipe.

How could I return to the theater? How could I when the entire theater probably thought I was "weird"? I could not face Edward, Jacob, Leah, and the entire audience. I would go home and watch the Kenneth Branagh version for the tenth time, instead. I could write a stellar paper from that production, piece of cake. That was why I was here, anyway, to do research for my final paper, not go gaga over a stranger.

I stood up again, my mind spinning from getting up too quickly. I walked to the street, about to hail a cab, when I heard the front door of the theater behind me burst open.

"Wait!" From a voice to make all hearts cease beating... in an accent to make all panties melt. "Don't leave."

I turned around slowly, the smoke from the guy smoking before clouding my vision of him... of his brilliant eyes. I squinted through it, trying to make sure. Then, the wind picked up, clearing it all away.

I gaped in disbelief. Edward Cullen. He stood at the doorway, out of breath, still in costume, hesitantly taking a couple of steps toward me.

His eyes were more brilliant now than they had ever been. They were brighter than beacons, beaming directly into my soul.

"Stay. Please?"

* * *

**A/N: **

***The song Bella was humming was Simon and Garfunkel's "Sound of Silence," which you can find on my profile page. Tee hee. That Bella.**

Here is the section Edward forgets in Act II scene ii in full (lines 293-310)

_I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent  
your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and  
queen moult no feather. I have of late—but wherefore  
I know not—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of  
exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my  
disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to  
me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy,  
the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament,  
this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why,  
it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent  
congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is a man!  
How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties,  
in form and moving how express and admirable,  
in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like  
a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!  
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man  
delights not me—no, nor woman neither, though by  
your smiling you seem to say so._

**Bye :)**


	5. Chapter 4 Not To Be

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: HI. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 4- Not to be  
**

"Dude, you fucked up!" the smoker said, laughing at Edward. His voice sounded like a siren far away from us. I couldn't tell you what he looked like if I tried; he was made of smoke and shadows. He didn't exist after he uttered those words. Edward paid him no attention either, steadily gazing at me.

He stood at the threshold, still catching his breath. His hair flew about his head wildly from the wind like a raging fire. The humid breeze blew into our bodies so I smelled his scent. Mmm, warm... chocolate? The sweetness was all around him.

And the light in his eyes was tinted in frustration. He wanted me to say something, to say I will stay. And he wanted it now.

"You'll wait?" he asked, but it came out more as a statement. His eyes followed mine every time I attempted to look away. The golden flecks around the center were bewitching. I could not avoid his eyes any longer.

What did he want from me? I was an utter loser/nerd for what I did in the theater. Was he here to point and laugh at me and put it on youtube? Fuck! I couldn't even think straight because he won't stop trying to get inside my head with those brilliant eyes.

He reached out to me, his long fingers inches away from my arm. He didn't seem real. It was as if I was in the presence of a ghost, like he was about to evaporate if I took a step and touched him. I watched in awe as his pale fingers glowed under the white streetlights.

"Who are you?" I asked in a daze. Maybe I should've asked, _what_ but I was dazed and all.

He couldn't be of this world. He couldn't be normal and make me feel like this after only a couple of minutes of being in his presence. He was about to reply when the smoker interrupted us again, breaking the hold Edward had on me.

"Hey, don't you have to go?" he asked Edward, taking a deep drag from the butt of his cigarette. _What? Go where?_

Edward averted his eyes lifting his arm to glance at his watch.

He cursed. I melted. It sounded like poetry.

"Please, wait for me on the first floor lobby," he said, desperate for me to do this one thing. _Why was he so anxious?_ "Don't leave."

"I won't," I said, shaking my head, confused as he backed away towards the door. _Where could he be going? Why was he in a hurry?_

He turned away, yanking the door open and rushing inside.

I was flabbergasted. _What just happened here?_

The smoke from the smoker flowed into my vision and filtered into my lungs just as it did when Edward first walked outside. I watched the smoke, out of sorts and detached. From the corner of my eye, I saw the light from his cigarette fall to the ground in slow motion. The smoker stepped on it, the light dying under his Chuck Taylors.

Then he ran for the door. _Why the hell was he running too? What was I missing_?

I blinked, shaking my head of its cobwebs. Following him into the lobby, I hurried for the door to the theater.

As the door swung behind me, a couple of men on stage in the 17th century wardrobe Edward wore were conversing. One of them looked like he was 15 with a silly gray beard on his face. _Who cast that kid?_

Then it hit me! Everything hit me. That kid was Polonious. This was the first scene of Act III. I was at The New School. Jacob and Leah were most likely worried about me. The women in the audience were about to fall out of their seats. Edward was about to recite one of the most famous soliloquies in the history of Western literature.

Of course he had to hurry back in. He had a play to perform. Wow, did I really just forget where I was for five minutes?

I stood in the back of the theater, afraid to disturb the audience during the scene. I didn't want to be far from Edward when he walked on stage. Whatever happened between us outside, I had a strange compulsion to experience again. So, as Polonious and King Claudius reached the end of their conversation, I hurried to my seat.

"Bella, where have you been?" Jacob asked after I plopped down into my seat. The plastic rings of my notebook cut into my ass. and I pushed it hurriedly to the floor. "We thought you left and tried calling you, but you left your cell phone in your purse."

"I was, um... I needed some air. I'm fine," I muttered, looking up at the stage. Couldn't he see that I was fine? I didn't have time for Jacob's worrying. Edward was about to come on.

The two Amazons in front of me glanced back smirking. _Okay bitches. Yeah, I know I'm a nerd. But do you even know what the fuck I was saying?_

I almost gave them the finger when they shifted in their seats to face the stage again, probably to adjust the silicone in their breasts. I groaned, pissed that I was wasting brain space on those idiots.

What if Edward didn't make it back in time? Would he forget his lines again? Was he now as detached and dazed as I was moments before? He couldn't be. This was the most important part of the play.

I sat in my seat, my heart beating so fast I felt like it was about to explode.

Polonious and Claudius exited stage right, and I sucked in a cautious breath, waiting for this stranger, the ghost with the green eyes, to appear.

_Come on! Come on!_

Suddenly, the entire theater was infused by Edward's voice:

HAMLET:_ To be, or not to be, that is the question_

Those words echoed in the theater before he walked on stage. Wow, what an entrance. He shuffled in, introspective, looking down at the stage floor as he continued.

HAMLET: _Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer_

_The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,_

_Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,_

_And by opposing, end them?_

He looked up at the yellow stage lights, pacing, then came to a stop at the middle of the stage. When he lowered his head, a raw energy burst from him straight to me. His intense gaze was unwavering as he delivered the next few lines:

HAMLET: _To die, to sleep,_

_No more; and by a sleep to say we end_

_The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks_

_That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation_

_Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;_

_To sleep, perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;_

_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,_

_When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,_

_Must give us pause: there's the respect_

_That makes calamity of so long life;_

Toward the end of the soliloquy, he began pacing again, his eyes trained on me as if I had all of Shakespeare's secrets scrawled on my forehead, on my lips and neck. And when he looked into my eyes, my body went numb and I could not feel my legs. I was enraptured. He had cast another spell on me where I was now debilitated.

On the final line of the soliloquy, I felt bare. My mind was emptied of its usual worry, cynicism, even meaning. The only thing that was left was Edward. The only thing that I wanted to be left was Edward.

He could not be human. If he was, then I was crazy.

With the play within a play and the ghost reappearing in the scene, we didn't share too many moments like the one in scene one. My eyes traveled along the full length of his body, taking him in. I couldn't help but stop at a certain area every so often. The area was good. Very very good. And maybe expanding?

But as I watched him demean Ophelia, I stopped the cock-gazing short. It was painful to see him in this way. I had to detach myself from those parts of the scene. But I was detached in the way I had been since meeting Edward outside. I couldn't concentrate on the lines. The other actors were blurs of color and emotions. And during the soliloquy at the end of scene two, Edward stared at me and only me.

"Why is he staring at you like that?" Jacob whispered in my ear, making me jump up in my seat.

"I don't know. I don't know!" I squeaked. If Jacob noticed, the women in the audience must have wanted to hang me.

I glanced at him and did a double take.

"Jacob, you're looking a little green around the gills. You should go out and get some fresh air."

"I'm not green," he replied with a wan smile. "And I don't have gills."

"He was fine for the cab ride in," Leah whispered. "What could have happened to him?"

I shook my head, wondering the same. He looked positively nauseous.

"Like I've been saying for the last ten minutes, I'm fine. Let's enjoy the show," Jake whispered back. He wiped his forehead which had a sheen of sweat on it.

"I bet it was the food..." Leah murmured.

"What did you say?" I said in a full voice.

"Shhh!" One of the Amazons turned to face us, one manicured finger pressed to her bright red lips. Another Gwen Stefani fan, I see. I turned back to Leah, too concerned about Jake to worry about disturbing people. Besides, the scene was about to end, although she probably didn't know that.

"I said..." Leah began. Then paused, her eyes as dark and as threatening as a speeding bullet. "Jacob must've eaten... something today that isn't agreeing with him..."

_Bitch! How dare you complain about my cooking! _I was about to go off on her when Jacob groaned, leaning his head on the back of the seat. He hugged his mid-section. He looked miserable. Was Leah about to be right about me a second time tonight? Wait, was the chicken even done? Jake swallowed the contents of the entire saucepan way too quickly. And the chicken had been frying for only a few minutes when he came in... Shit!

"Jake, we should get you home, now," I whispered in his ear. I should have never made Jacob's Friesapalooza. Really, only Billy and Leah could. And his mom, of course, back when she was alive. Now, Leah would probably call the cops on me for trying to kill her boyfriend.

She cocked her eyebrow, demanding I tell her what I said.

"Maybe it was, uh, all the traveling? The drastic change in temperature must have gotten to him," I told her. Jake turned towards me, his face twisted in a grimace.

"Come on, Jake." I said, taking his hand. It was on fire. He had a fever, definitely a sign of food poisoning. Damn, why did this have to happen tonight? What if he wouldn't be able to go to his meetings tomorrow? He didn't come all the way to New York to get sick and lose the opportunity of a lifetime because of me.

The stage went dark after Edward said the final word, ending the scene. When I looked up, he was staring at me again. As the curtains closed around him, it seemed like Edward's white face became even whiter. What was wrong? Was he about to throw up now, too? Why was everyone getting sick around me tonight?

"You know Edward?" The Amazon who shushed us earlier asked me, looking me up and down like I was trash. Go to hell, bitch. I turned to Leah as she made another guess,

"Maybe it was lunch. Sony brought us to Nobu. It was the first time we had sushi. Maybe he's allergic..." She glared at me the entire time, lying through her teeth. She and I both knew it wasn't the sushi. Nobu was a five-star restaurant. It was my fault. If only Jacob could see her thinly-veiled act right now, but he was still facing me.

"Jacob, you need to go home," I said, stroking his arm. "Come."

Jacob dropped his head into his hands, his skin flushed. He's about to vomit on the Amazons, I know it. And no matter how much I wanted to see that, I couldn't let him. My brief turn as Hamlet earlier had embarrassed us enough for a lifetime during the second act.

The lights came on in the theater and I knew we had to leave now. I bent over for my book, and then stood up.

"Jake, come!"

"No, I'm good." Jake's left leg was shaking now, and his breathing was shallow.

If only we could make it to intermission. I know how badly he wanted to see the first murder, which was three scenes away. He didn't have to say it. I knew that was the only reason why he wouldn't budge. I felt guilty because it was my fault that he wouldn't get the chance to see it.

But, deep down, I felt even more guilty over something else. Jake had to leave in the next five minutes, and I didn't want to go with him. I had to see Edward. I couldn't leave before saying goodbye. I didn't want to leave at all. I felt like I was breaking a promise to him. My stomach churned, and my mind spun at the notion of the word: goodbye.

While lost in my thoughts, I watched Jacob reach out for Leah's hand. He was gonna leave with us. And I was going to leave Edward.

"It's okay, Jake. There are a million versions of Hamlet. We can watch any one of them at your hotel tonight," I said wistfully. No other Hamlet would measure up to Edward.

Leah nodded, pulling his arm over her shoulder.

"Yes, we'll pop some popcorn, we'll drink loads of seltzer, and we'll make a night of it."

I cocked my eyebrow at her fakeness. There was no way she would want to hang out with me. But she smiled at me genuinely, and I became a bit doubtful of my own assumptions. Maybe she would play nice for Jacob's sake? Maybe we could still make this evening into something fun like we were back in Forks.

I let them walk ahead of me, hesitating. That sense of goodbye returned to me in waves. As Leah helped Jacob to the exit, I took a step towards the stage, wondering if I should tell Edward we were leaving. But I couldn't. Jacob needed me. No matter how much it physically hurt me to leave Edward, I had to go.

"I swear to God, Bella," Leah said between clenched teeth. "If Jacob is too sick for tomorrow, ooh, I don't know what I'll do. Sony owes us big time!" The way she said it was like double-speak, like "Sony" was me. Was she capable of being a bitch even if Jacob needed the both of us?

Leah had a right to complain. Really, she did. I did this to Jake, and I would hate myself forever if I ruined his chance of pursuing his dream. It didn't help him at all if we were fighting.

I ran out to the street to hail a cab for their hotel. Leah helped Jake in and I followed her so that she sat in the middle. There was no way Jake could be the buffer right now. At any moment, he could throw up, and it couldn't be in the cab.

Thankfully, and despite the speed of the ride and the length of it, Jacob didn't throw up at all. When we arrived at the hotel, Leah helped Jake out. I stayed behind to pay the driver and hurried to catch up with them after he drove away. Jacob was at the elevator, his head against the wall by the time I made it through the revolving doors. I took a step toward him when I saw Leah walk, no, charge for me like a bull.

"I can take it from here. You should go home and learn how to cook chicken properly, Isabella."

_Oh hell no! _"But you said-"

"I know what I said, bitch! But Jacob doesn't need you. He hasn't for seven years. You need to get it through your thick skull that he's my boyfriend, not yours. And I am here to take care of him. Go find some other loser to be with and leave Jacob alone!"

I was too appalled to reply. I stood in the lobby, my mouth agape, watching Leah and Jake enter the elevator, pissed, hurt, and more than anything else, taken advantage of.

That was the woman Jacob loved. She was the one who would make him happy until the end of his days. God, why Jacob? Why can't you see through her lies? Why can't you see you deserve better?

I took a cab home in state of utter disbelief and worry for my best friend. As his career was about to take off, what would Leah do to him? My gut told me she would betray him again. And this time, I wouldn't be there to protect him from all of that pain. He would be surrounded by strangers, on the road, alone.

I was climbing the final flight to my floor at home when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

Jake!

I pulled it out, hoping it was a call. I just wanted to hear his voice to make sure that he was alright. But the vibrating stopped as soon as I held it in my hand. Must have been a text. Oh God, was it Leah gloating?

I tapped the key to turn the screen light on and saw it was a text message. It was from the last person on earth that I ever wanted to hear from tonight:

**_Cocksucking Whore: _**_BIG NEWS! TEXT ME AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS! OMFG!_

_9:57 p.m._

**_Me: _**_What is it? Did you win a trillion dollars? Are you gonna buy NYU?_

_9:58 p.m._

**_Cocksucking Whore:_**_ I JUST HEARD SOMETHING BIG! 1ST 2 PAPERS SUBMITTED GET AUTO ACCEPTED TO THE INTERNSHIP AT THE NYER. DUDE!_

_9:58 p.m._

I was floored. First two? Even if Erik Yorkie did it? I rolled my eyes, opening my door before texting her back.

**_Me:_**_ Wait, what?_

_10:03 p.m._

**_Cocksucking Whore:_**_ My paper is already on Evans's desk. Good luck, Bella!_

_10:03 p.m._

Oh no. No, this couldn't be happening. I could not be forced to write my final term paper this weekend when my mind was jumbled with worry over Jacob and distracted by Edward. No, this couldn't be. I couldn't write the paper now. I needed more time. I didn't analyze a second of that play tonight.

What was worse, what hit me like a ton of pink glittery IPhones, was that I would be interning at The New Yorker... with Jessica Stanley.

What a rotten summer this would turn out to be.

***not to be***

**April 30, 2010**

The next morning, I woke up bright and early, forcing my mind clear, and focused on finishing that paper. I swept away a couple of monstercockroaches from the bathroom and kitchen, took a shower, and hunkered down. Really, I saw Hamlet more times than I could count. If I ever needed a reference, I could use the text.

My memories of last night were a jumbled mess. I felt weird, like I was hung-over, so I didn't bother reading my notes. They contained no new revelations of the characters or themes. All that laid within the blue lines were Edward... and Jacob.

I called his cell before I went to bed, but it went straight to voicemail. I sent him various text messages but never got a reply. Leah must have blocked my phone and erased my number by now. There was nothing I could do. I could run up to the hotel and demand to see him, but even if he was well enough, he wouldn't have time for me. He had a long day ahead of him, an exciting future of success and a world to see beyond his wildest dreams.

Last night, in the very kitchen that I stood in now, Jacob made his decision about us. He wanted to be with her. He was about to embark on a journey of a lifetime with her. And all of that success would be without me.

I just had to write this paper. This was my future. I was going places, too. My future would be as bright once I handed this in to Professor Evans. I woke up with the intent to hand it in by Monday so, I had to spend the next two days immersed in "Hakuna Matata" and nihilism.

I sat on my living room floor, rewinding the sole "ghost" scene in The Lion King when I remembered I had written something revelatory last night. I crawled over to my coffee table for the book, flipping through to the front when the program from last night fell out.

Even in black and white, I could see the light shining from Edward's eyes. I sat back, holding the program up, gazing at him, almost as if he were alive on the page, as if he could reach out and touch me. I stroked the line of his sharp jaw and the edges of his wily mane. My fingers trembled, imagining the texture of his hair and skin. Would he be hard like a football player or smooth like a business man?

I envisioned the answer to that in all its connotations when I heard a click and a loud winding sound.

I was so startled, I dropped the program to the floor. I turned to the television and realized it was my VCR. It had gone all the way back to the beginning. I glanced down at Edward's face, clutching my chest. I hadn't heard it rewinding at all. It was as if time stopped with him, no matter what form he took, whether in person or on paper. And in that moment, I felt like all that I had done this morning had been a waste. I needed to see Edward.

I needed to see him, now.

I pulled my laptop towards me, searching for the show time of the matinee. There had to be a matinee, there was always a matinee. Navigating through the site, I landed on the page with the schedule. The next show would be at 1:00 p.m. Right now, it was 11:00 a.m. which was barely enough time to get into the city. The NYC subway system slowed down to a crawl because of construction on weekends. I would never make it on time. I needed to take a cab.

When I pulled out my wallet, I saw I had $10.00 left. I spent the rest of my cash on the cab ride back home last night. From the East 50s to Brooklyn was a lot of money, and $10.00 was not enough money for a cab to the Village and my ticket. Fuck!

11:20 a.m.: I grabbed my keys, unlocked the door, locked the door, and ran down the stairs.

11:30 a.m.: I arrived at the train station, huffing and puffing but relieved because I would get there in time after all. If the next train got here in five minutes, I might be able to make it. But as I approached the turnstiles, I searched my pockets... and couldn't find my Metrocard.*

11:31 a.m.: Cursed the turnstile, New York City, Mayor Bloomberg, plastic, American currency, Sam Locke and the laws of physics for making it so damn hard to get from one place to another.

11:35 a.m.: Ran back home, defeated but not hopeless.

11:50 a.m.: Speed-walked back to the train station, sweating so hard under the midday sun, I felt like I needed a change in clothes. How could I see Edward like this?

12:13 p.m. I was biting my fingernails on the train, probably looking like to a rabid dog.

12:38 p.m. I was running through the terminal to a connecting train because the one I had been on wasn't in the mood to travel to Manhattan today. FUCKING MTA!

12:48 p.m. I stood on the train, looking over the Manhattan Bridge, exhausted. The river glistened under the sunlight, the sky blue, the red dirge slow on its way to New Jersey. It calmed me somewhat, sort of put things into perspective.

It was too late to see Edward now. There was no way I could get in. They wouldn't let in any stragglers; that was how these school productions worked. I fretted for a good twenty minutes about it, throwing dirty looks at everyone, young and old, who dared look my way. The closer I got to the theater, though, the calmer I got.

It was fine. This all was fine. This wasn't the last show. I would simply have to buy a ticket for the 8 o'clock show tonight.

12:58 Thank God it was another warm day in New York. Otherwise, this walk to Bank St. would suck tremendously.

I walked through the lobby fifteen minutes after one, shuffling toward the ticket window. The same guy from Wednesday night sat in the booth with headphones on, the blue light from the computer screen lighting up his dark face.

"Hi, can I have a ticket for-"

"Sorry, late admittance is not permitted," he said without looking up. _What was so damn interesting on there that he wouldn't bother paying attention to me? World of Warcraft? Loser._

I pulled out my last ten-dollar bill. I wouldn't get the stipend from school until the end of the month. I had points for food, but that was all. And here I was, spending it on Edward, a stranger, a possibly bi-sexual married stranger...

I slid the bill under the glass. He was worth it. I didn't know why, yet; but I knew he was.

"I figured," I said, pouting. "But I want one for tonight. It's the last show, right? I've gotta get into this one."

Finally tearing his eyes away from the computer screen, he glanced in my direction, cloaked head to toe in nonchalance.

"Sorry, tonight's show is sold out."

* * *

**A/N:** Metrocard is the fare card used to travel through New York City's public transportation system. Just wanted to make that clear in case anyone was confused.

The famous soliloquy Act III Scene i (lines 56-90)

_To be, or not to be: that is the question:_

_Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer_

_The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,_

_Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,_

_And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;_

_No more; and by a sleep to say we end_

_The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks_

_That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation_

_Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;_

_To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;_

_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come_

_When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,_

_Must give us pause: there's the respect_

_That makes calamity of so long life;_

_For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,_

_The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,_

_The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,_

_The insolence of office and the spurns_

_That patient merit of the unworthy takes,_

_When he himself might his quietus make_

_With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,_

_To grunt and sweat under a weary life,_

_But that the dread of something after death,_

_The undiscover'd country from whose bourn_

_No traveller returns, puzzles the will_

_And makes us rather bear those ills we have_

_Than fly to others that we know not of?_

_Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;_

_And thus the native hue of resolution_

_Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,_

_And enterprises of great pith and moment_

_With this regard their currents turn awry,_

_And lose the name of action. _

**_Bye :) _**


	6. Chapter 5 Smoke and Mirrors

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

**Chapter 5-Smoke and Mirrors**

I felt like the ticket guy just told me Edward was a transvestite with herpes.

"Y-you can't be. I need to see this show." Here I was, with the last ten dollars to my name, about to spend it on the last show of the season, and I couldn't because it was sold out? I had to see Edward again tonight. And I couldn't just walk into the theater without a ticket like a stalker. I was Bella Swan. Bella Swan was _not _a stalker.

So, there had to be a mistake in the system. Or, there were reserved seats for theater members who wouldn't show up. Or maybe he heard about how I helped Edward with his lines last night and, out of the goodness of his heart, he would let me in based on my act of kindness.

He cocked his eyebrow, smirking. Then, a spark lit up his eyes. _Oh yes!_

"Hey, I know you!" He pulled the headphones off. "You were the girl who helped Cullen last night. That was amazing how you memorized those lines. Even Edward didn't know them," he said, laughing. His eyes shone, his interest in me, piqued.

"Thanks, I guess," I struggled to smile, blushing furiously. _Nice Bella, play the shy, insecure part. Guys eat that shit up._

"You should've been rewarded somehow..." he said, still following the script I had been developing in my head. He would ask me out on a date next and I would say not unless I got in tonight, to which he would miraculously find a seat. Yes, my script deserved the Academy for Best Original Screenplay dabnabit.

"Well, you can reward me, now..." I fluttered my eyelashes, looking down at my feet. I turned my right leg from left to right to seem as girly as possible.

It didn't work.

He shook his head, no. "I'm sorry. I wish I could, but there are no seats left. You would have to sit on the steps, which is a fire hazard."

"I'll sit on an arm rest if I have to."

"But," he said, crossing his arms. "You saw it last night. Why would you need to see it again?"

I averted my eyes, looking at my chewed up nails, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't make me sound crazy. Watching Hamlet again because I needed to see Edward again like I needed to breathe was not a good answer.

"Uh, I..."

"It's Edward, isn't it? I remember... earlier this week you were asking about him."

"No, it's not. It's really not. Um, the guy playing Horatio is my... cousin. I promised to take photos of him to show… uh, Nana for her… ummm birthday tomorrow." I was never a good liar. He would see right through that one.

"Really. Well, you know this matinee isn't sold out..."

"What? Seriously? Let me in, please!"

He paused, glancing at the money, then up into my eyes again.

"Alright. Alright, fine." I started for the stairs as soon as the first "alright" came out of his mouth. Then, he had to crush me with, "But you have to wait until the end of scene one."

I dropped down on the steps when he said that, frustrated beyond belief. Edward was literally 30 seconds and a couple of flights away from me, and I couldn't see him. The damn kid just wanted to see me suffer. He was jealous. He wanted me to chase after him, instead. Tough luck, dude. There's only one Edward Cullen.

After about ten minutes of mulling over what I should even say to Edward, I heard some chatter coming from the theater upstairs. The scene must have ended. I made a run for it.

When I yanked opened the door, the theater was only ¾ of the way full. The last 5 rows were empty. I sneaked past an usher into one of those seats just as the lights dimmed over the audience and lit up on stage.

My thoughts spun in my mind, and my body hummed in anticipation. Edward was coming.

King Claudius sauntered in, boastful, his party following soon afterward from stage right. Edward would be the last to enter, that tempered disgust tensing his shoulders. I saw Laertes, Polonious, i.e. the fifteen year old with the grey beard, Gertrude, my "cousin" Horatio, then Fortinbras... and I held my breath.

There was the tempered disgust. There was the suspicion. There were the black period clothes. All of those elements that impressed me about Edward last night were back. Perhaps because my anticipation made it seem so, but he looked even better today. His hair was a blaze of wild fire. His eyes inspecting his cast members like light beams. I could not catch my breath. He captivated my body and soul and he hadn't said one word.

When he reached his soliloquy at the end of the scene, he surveyed the audience from front to back, walking from stage left to right. Then, to my surprise, our eyes met. He paused at the middle of the stage, never breaking our connection. He stopped the speech, his eyes glowing as they roamed my face. After a minute, he continued to the end until the curtains shut around him.

By the time the lights went up for intermission, I had lost all sense of time and my identity had been questioned at least a dozen times. Where was I? Why was I here? Who was I? I sat in my seat in a daze for a couple of minutes until I saw a blur of blackness and fire down the aisle on the left side of the theater. I sat up, shaking my head, hoping I was hallucinating, when his scent hit me: that inimitable chocolate from last night.

I stood up, my mind clear for the first time since I entered the theater, awaiting his appearance when I felt him instead. His hands were on my shoulder from behind me. Big, huge white hands.

I whirled around, looking up into his eyes, eyes like the sky, the stars, the sun, the ocean. I was drowning when he said breathlessly,

"Don't leave this time. Wait for me downstairs," in his sweet accent. Mirth crossed his face briefly. Then, his hands left my shoulder and ran off the same way he came.

My shoulder burned as if I had been touched by the sun. I rubbed it periodically throughout Act IV.

I tried to concentrate on the course of events again, but it was a fruitless effort. His eyes never left mine during his soliloquies. I was five rows from the back of the theater, and I might as well have been in the first. I was spellbound. My mind was mush. And things only got worse for Act V.

During the final act, my limbs grew heavy and nausea overtook me. Hamlet killed King Claudius and would die from the poison on Laertes's sword in the next couple of minutes. I could not see him fall. I could barely stomach the preceding deaths, and it wasn't because I was squeamish or anything. Polonius's death was the bloodiest on stage, and I didn't even bat an eye. But the sight of one mortality after another was too much to bear, and they served as forecasters to Hamlet's end.

Edward's end.

I could not differentiate them, now, and the nausea worsened. His speech began to slur, and his footsteps slowed. When he dropped to his knees, I cried out, covering my eyes. Then, I stood up and ran out of the theater.

I jogged down the stairs to the second floor, hearing the final rousing applause from the audience. _Bunch of sadists. You enjoy watching poor Hamlet die, don't you? _

Oh God, I didn't sound like a crazed teenybopper at all right now, at all. _He's just a character, Bella. Edward's fine. Did I need a coaxing talk with a school psychiatrist, or what?_

I reached the lobby, bumping into the ticket guy. He must've been on his way from the bathroom, since he wiped his hands dry with a paper towel. After exchanging apologies, I thanked him for bending the rules and letting me in.

"Did you get to see your 'cousin'?" He said sardonically, opening the door to the booth. He climbed in, shutting it behind him."You don't even know his name, do you?"

"Uh, sure. Umm..."

"Ben Cheney! His name is Ben Cheney! I know you're here for that jerk-off, Cullen. You didn't have to lie about it." He sneered, his white teeth a stark contrast to his dark brown skin.

_Why did he hate Edward all of a sudden? Why was he in a bad mood?_

"Fine, OK. I'm here for Edward. But... what do you care? You didn't have an issue with this before." When he spoke about Edward Wednesday night, he described him as the coolest guy in the world. Now, it seemed like he despised him.

"Do you know how many girls I've had arguments with in the last two days because of him? I'll get death threats because this show is sold out. Like it's my fault." Then, he muttered, "Now, I'm like his PA.* Fucking ass needs to start paying me."

"Look, I'm sorry you have to deal with all of this, but it really means a lot that you let me see Edward on stage again," I started rambling. "I was supposed to meet up with him yesterday, and I couldn't because I had to leave early because my friend got sick and-"

"Slow your roll, chick," he said, cutting me off. He paused, sucking his teeth. Then, sighing, he opened the cash box on the counter and handed me my ten dollars. "Here."

"But that's for the matinee..."

"Keep it. It's on Cullen."

"Haha, very funny. Why would he do that? He doesn't even know me."

He rolled his eyes, putting his headphones around his neck. "He knows you enough to come down here with his goddamn orders. 'Don't let her out of your sight!' He said before the show. He looked like he was about to shit on himself when I told him you were here before. You aight, but you ain't half as hot as the girls who came here beggin for tickets this morning."

I didn't have a chance to respond to that mess because an older couple walked up to the ticket booth and some of the audience trickled down the stairs for the exit. I stepped aside, lost in my thoughts, and the bitter boy's words. Or, more precisely, Edward's words: "Don't let her out of your sight."

Edward wanted to see me again. Yeah, the "aight" girl. I leaned against the wall, my heartbeat racing. _Was it as badly as I wanted to see him? Probably not. But the fact that he did…_

I paced the lobby, my thoughts jumbled from last night's meeting outside, of his scent, of his magnetic eyes on stage and deep rich baritone reciting Shakespeare in my mind.

When the lobby cleared out and the ticket guy closed up his ticket booth, I began to worry. Perhaps Edward had forgotten about me. An after-show party whisked him away for the rest of the afternoon until tonight? Or he was too exhausted to talk to me and went home? Or maybe he was still in the theater finishing up?

I ran up the steps, thinking the final possibility was the most likely, when I heard a door swing open downstairs and stopped.

My heartbeat raced in my chest, and my thoughts clouded. My instincts took over, and something deep down told me it was Edward.

Edward was downstairs. Shit! Edward was downstairs!

I nearly tripped on my way back down. The closer I got to him, the weaker my limbs became. When I rounded the corner, what I saw was not what I expected at all.

Yes, Edward was here. It was really him but, it was _not _him, not like I remembered last night or even an hour ago.

Edward's hair was exactly the same, wild and thick and just as bright. With everyday clothes on, a red V-neck t-shirt and some worn blue jeans, the regal aura was gone. His back wasn't as straight as it was on stage, either. His walk wasn't as refined.

His face was darker without the makeup. He had naturally olive skin. He slouched, his hands in his pockets, searching the lobby. _For me_, I wondered. His eyebrows furrowed, he looked to left, towards the bathroom, then right, towards the ticket window in the middle of the lobby. He twisted his body around in quick movements like a dance. When his long lean form finally turned to face me, his eyebrows parted, and his forehead relaxed.

What drew me in from the moment I first saw him were his eyes. They squinted my way, glimmering like what I imagined to be the Caribbean ocean at midday. The closer he got, though, the more I realized that his eyes weren't the brilliant green they were on stage. They were a lot darker, so much sadder.

His lips pursed to the side as he made his way toward me. He kept running his hand through his hair. Then, he jammed his hands back into his pockets. His relieved expression became more thoughtful as he inched closer. His steps became hesitant when he was a few feet away, and he pulled his hands out, rounding them into a fist and flexing them at his sides. He smelled fresh, like Irish Spring, which threw me. It was so... normal. When he was in costume, he smelled like warm chocolate.

He looked as nervous as I felt. And I knew once he opened that British mouth of his, my reproductive organs would turn to mush and leak from my pant legs. I took a step forward to greet him, my nerves all jittery.

He sighed, smirking, his eyes open and friendly. The anticipation was like electricity in my veins.

"Hello," he said simply. My heart leaped out of my chest and fell to the floor. "I was... surprised when Laurent told me you were here. I was worried that I had overwhelmed you."

The timbre of his voice was so different: it was deeper, smoother. He had altered it in his performance to make it slightly maniacal. Now, it was heavy, with the sadness that coursed through his irises. But what really surprised me was that he didn't have a British accent... not even a drop of one. He was a Grade A, All-American boy.

"I'm not that... overwhelmed," I whispered, unable to look him in the eye. I looked at his lips curve into a sort of crooked grin, instead. Then, they rounded as he chuckled.

"Um, do I have something on my mouth?" He wiped his lower lip with his long thumb, back and forth in a flirty way that was pretty obvious. I shook my head, no, blinking a bit. Then, I took a deep breath, gazing at his forehead, instead, trying to calm down. His perfect forehead...

_He's just a guy. What the fuck was wrong with me?_ He was Mike Newton with beautiful green eyes. The chance of him being any different was slim to none, especially because of his looks. He would be arrogant on top of being a douchebag.

"Then, why were you looking at my lips so intently?" He asked, his eyes boring into mine like a drill. _Daring, aren't you? Jesus Christ._ I cleared my throat.

"I... I was... just confused about your, um, accent. I thought you were British."

He shook his head no, grinning sheepishly. "No, I'm from here. Well, L.A."

L.A. as in Los Angeles? The land of the plastic fake "people"? I tilted my head to the side, now thinking of him in a completely new way. Was he some trust-fund baby born with a Tiffany's silver spoon in his mouth? Probably a spoiled arrogant douche.

Despite my dreadful assumptions, it was still hard to breathe in such close proximity to him. The spell was back in full-force, which reminded me of our brief rendezvous last night. He sounded like British royalty back then.

"But even during intermission just now... And last night, you were..."

He shrugged. "I like to stay in character throughout a performance. And this production called for a King James version of Hamlet," he said, laughing mirthlessly, digging into his back pocket. I felt a bit cheated, like all of my ideas about him were unfounded, and I was staring at a totally different person. _Well he _is _an actor, Bella. _

"So, you were arguing with, uh, Laurent, is it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, he wasn't very... forthcoming. I had to practically bribe him to give you the refund."

_Arguing? Bribes? Over me?_ I was about to ask him that very question when he pulled out a carton of cigarettes and flipped the lid open, offering me one.

"No. I'm good," I told him. Another surprise. A smoker? I could not stand smokers. Charlie's house in Forks smelled like a chimney all three years I lived there. My lungs must look like Jacob's charred chicken from all the second-hand smoke.

Edward flipped the carton closed, quickly stuffing it in his pocket again.

"Sorry, um..." he drew out the "um" in a childlike way. "What's your name?"

"No need to apologize. It's Bella. Bella Swan."

He did another strange thing and sighed contentedly. Did he know another girl named Bella? Probably a dog. I can't tell you how many miniature schnauzers I know that share my name.

"Bella... beautiful."

"How-" I stopped myself, surprised for the third time. Rarely had people made that connection. Jacob didn't know until I told him my junior year in high school. Edward's parents must have been Italian...

"Or... it doesn't mean beautiful?" He furrowed his thick eyebrows, running his hand through the chaos atop his head. I stood there gaping at him, transfixed by the fiery waves his fingers were creating.

"How did you know?" He cleared his throat, smiling from the corner of his mouth. That smile, his hair, his eyes: one disarming feature after another. They more than made up for the smoking.

"Oh, we had to learn basic Italian for Romeo and Juliet freshman year. Don't ask me to say anything though. My Italian is atrocious," he said, with that crooked smile again. I looked away, trying to stop gaping. But my eyes traveled to the bulge in his pants (just as big in these jeans) and I got so hot, I must have looked like a tomato.

Oddly enough, he didn't seem to be bothered by my weird behavior. His head was bowed to the left, smirking about something. The smirk was mischievous and condescending at the same time. _Did I amuse him? Did he find humor in unnerving people, especially a girl who had been chasing him for nearly a week? _

I backed away from him to a burgundy couch near the entrance, sitting down. My nerves were shot, my mind racing. I was so entranced by him, a stranger. Then, I stopped. I hated how he was affecting me. It was so superficial. I didn't know anything about him except his name, that he had hair like Simba in _The Lion King _and a very, very nice package.

"And so, Edward... Cullen, is it?"

He paused, scratching his temple, his smile widening.

"You- you're kidding… You've seen..." he sighed. "Uh, yeah, Edward Cullen."

"Edward Cullen…" I murmured.

He nodded hesitantly. "Yes, does it sound familiar Are we distant cousins?"

I grinned at his little joke. "It's just," I paused, clearing my throat. I sounded so meek, too soft-spoken, like I lost my voice. "It's not a common name." I paused again, biting my tongue. _As if my name were..._

"Why are you..." Edward started, his smile ceasing and his expression becoming thoughtful. "It's not. You're right. It's a family name. I must be the tenth one. Um where..." He paused, still smirking but avoiding my eyes. It was so weird. He was nervous, and I didn't understand why. I never had this effect on people, why him? I continued looking up at his face, a blush suddenly creeping up into his cheeks. What in the world?

He walked toward me. A poster of an old production of _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_ was above the couch. Two unknown actors were featured, yet Edward looked at the poster like he knew them, like it haunted him. He rubbed his hands on his jeans as he sat next to me.

"So, what did you think of the show? Thank you, by the way." His eyes met mine again, and I swear my face looked like the sun's core.

That moment we shared during the second act yesterday was like an out of body experience. I don't know how I remembered the lines . I had read them on the train ride to class, but rarely did I remember anything so precisely. Forgetting my Metrocard this morning was only one instance of my rotten memory.

"Um, you're welcome. And your performance was..." Powerful? Gripping. "Beautiful."

_Great, Bella._

He lifted an eyebrow, still amused. "Um, thank you, I think..." He stood up, beginning to pace. My heart was racing. His hands were in and out of his hair. We were both so anxious. It was as if every word we said to each other had to have so much meaning. The way he kept hesitating when he spoke, it was easy to see that's how he felt. We were both so tense, and I couldn't take it anymore. I knew it was because of one thing. And I had to ask it before our heads exploded.

"Why did you ask me to stay?" The elephant in the theater, so to speak. It was barely a whisper, and I didn't think he heard me because he kept pacing. But he stopped, gazing down into my face.

His eyes glowed like kryptonite.

I looked away again, my mouth dry and my skin volcanic. I felt like I was sinking into an ocean, fully submerged, surrounded by a force greater than myself. Was he feeling the same weird feeling I felt, like we had stepped out of this dimension and entered our own pocket of reality?

He stroked his lips, closing his eyes. His eyelashes brushed the top of his cheeks they were so long. "To sleep, perchance to dream..."

"What?" He opened his eyes again, and I swear we began to breathe in the same rhythm.

"There are a million reasons. There are a million thoughts..."

"I- I only need one-"

"I had to see you, Bella, up close. I had to see that you were... real."

It was strange for him to say, but I came back for the same reason. He was larger than life on stage, like a sorcerer, hypnotizing me with his golden-green eyes, engrossing my mind and soul with his own. The two times we had met so far, he was ghost-like, like a fleeting thought, running out to the street and back inside before I could blink. I thought I was going crazy more times in the last few days than I have my entire life. Now, he was here: human, tangible, real. And all that I had imagined him to be was nowhere near the real thing, but what stood before me was better, one hundred-fold.

"I feel the same way," was all I could muster.

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm surrounded by ghosts. I don't know many people who are real, anymore. They're all smoke and mirrors."

"I do, too."

"Seeing you now... you're more real than anyone else."

"I'm real to you?" I shook my head. "You don't even know me." And my heart started beating so fast, I felt like a locomotive raced through my chest. Because there was a part of me that didn't care. And that part knew he didn't care, either. I knew it like I knew Forks was a cold wet dump. Like I knew never again in my life would I look into another man's eyes and feel tremors in my soul.

"Don't I?"

How could I reply to that? And it wasn't creepy in any way, which made this entire situation even more bizarre. Ever since I moved here, I've been the most paranoid person. New York City was surrounded by strangers, by liars hiding behind facades, waiting for you to fail. But Edward, I don't know, he seemed different. Something told me to trust him, and I willingly listened.

He shut his eyes again. "I don't know what it is either, Bella," he whispered, replying to a statement I must have been thinking subconsciously. _He completed thoughts I didn't even have yet, then answered them... _

"I just know I had to see you... and that I have to see you again." He opened his eyes, beseeching me with his gaze.

"I... I have to see you again, too."

"Let's go somew- shit!" He raised his arm up to look at his watch. "Shit!" He pulled out an IPhone from the back of his pocket, muttering another curse. Still poetry.

"You have somewhere to go, somewhere urgent?"

"It isn't. It's an... obligation." _What does that mean?_

"If you have... obligations, you should go." _I knew this was too good to be true. The obligation was Horatio or his eight babies. He's an octodad._

He stopped dialing, running his hands through his hair again. He had a blank expression on his face looking at his phone. When he looked up and over my head at the _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_ poster, clouds of frustration rolled through his eyes, darkening them to viridian steel.

"I should go... I should..."

I started fiddling with the hem of my shirt, feeling sick to my stomach that he was about to leave. The thought of goodbye scared me... and I hated it, this dependence I had for him. It was worse than what I felt last night when I left because of Jacob. This city was notorious for fucked up people. He could be running off to blow up a building or some shit.

_OK, he was not a terrorist. Come on, Bella._

Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He didn't take his eyes off of me, picking up.

"What?"

I watched him, his left hand on his hip. He listened intently on the other line, his eyes never dropping intensity.

"Mmm hmm. Bye." He squeezed the phone in his hand so hard, it looked like he was about to crack it.

Edward looked over at the door for a second. He looked down to me once more, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, thoughtful again. Then, he walked over and dropped down to a squat in front of me. He took my hands in his. They were so big, my tiny hands completely enveloped by them.

"You feel it."

Of course I felt it. The compulsion to be together. The way my body yielded to his just by being in the same room with him. I could not tell what was up or down anymore, what state I was in, how I got here. I saw his green eyes only. And I never wanted to stop seeing them or feeling like this.

I exhaled. "I do."

He reached up slowly, stroking my cheek. I shivered from his touch, his thumb rough and hot on my skin. It slid down my cheek to my jaw, trembling at my chin. Then, he dropped them to his lap.

"I don't want to leave you," he replied in a rush. "I know you feel the same way."

"Then, don't..."

"Bella..." he breathed. Edward opened his hand, his fingers feather-light across my cheek before he pressed his palm down to it. It was so warm, so real. I closed my eyes, savoring it, not knowing how I had ever lived without his touch.

"Edward..." I whispered. I felt like I was in another world in Edward's hands. I heard only the sound of him breathing, and I felt weightless.

Suddenly, his hand covered mine. My eyes fluttered open, when he released it.

"No, Edward don't-"

"I'm sorry, I can't." He backed away towards the entrance, his sad brilliant eyes retreating from me.

"Wait... wait!" I pleaded, standing up to follow him. His steps quickened, and he turned away. He pushed the front door open and left the theater, a ghost yet again.

* * *

**A/N**

***PA- Personal Assistant**

**Bye :)**


	7. Chapter 6 Goodnight, Sweet Ladies

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi.:)**

**Chapter 6- Good-night, Sweet Ladies Good-night**

* * *

There were times over this past week when I thought I was going to lose everything: my mind, my pride, my code of ethics. And only in retrospect did I feel like I became a more pathetic version of Glenn Close from Fatal Attraction (but with better hair). Every time I caught myself in the midst of a particularly pathetic act, I justified it with one reason and one reason alone. Edward Cullen.

The ghost with the green eyes that haunted me since the first day I saw him. The man that told me I was the only real person he knew, even though I was a complete stranger. Now, it was as if I was Elmer Fudd, and he was that "wasscally wabbit," Bugs Bunny, just out of grasp, taunting me by his absence.

**May 1, 2010**

I returned to The New School that Saturday night to barter with that prick, Laurent, for backstage access. Whatever Edward's "obligation" was, it couldn't have been important enough for him to miss this final performance. And the fact that Laurent knew that I wasn't another groupie would mean an easy in. I didn't need to beg this time. I would get behind those curtains and in Edward's arms easily.

But fate decided it would play a bad hand for the third time that day. The first was Edward's abrupt departure. The second was Jacob checking out of his hotel without calling me. And the third was that Laurent wasn't at the ticket window Saturday night.

He had a pimple-faced replacement that refused to help me because he assumed I was just another groupie. It was the most maddening experience of my life, worse than anything Jessica had done to me. Edward was two floors up, so close to me, but I couldn't see him.

I thought he might come out during intermission, sensing I was there somehow. I hoped our connection was that deep, but it wasn't.

After the show, I tried catching him at the exit but he never came. I searched for co-stars to ask them to lead me in the right direction- maybe through Ben? Laurent said he was a nice guy, but none of them showed up either. I realized a couple minutes before the theater closed that there might have been an exit from backstage and ran for it.

There wasn't a soul out back.

If I hadn't seen Edward with my own eyes that afternoon, I would have thought the fates were against us. The fates. I laughed mirthlessly every time they came to mind, thinking of their role in _Macbeth_. There had to be three of them, Shakespeare was right. There was no way one deity could spin such tomfoolery without help. I'm thinking Lachesis spun the thread while Atropos nicked at it with her shears like a covetous hag and Clotho poured the martinis for her sisters, laughing haughtily like a crotchety broad. Fucking bitches treating my life like an episode of "Gossip Girl" was just wrong. I didn't saunter around New York City in Louboutins, drunk off of Chuck Bass's arrogance. I've never sauntered anywhere in my life, let alone in heels that cost more than two month's rent.

I rode the train ride home Saturday night, more confused about Edward than ever. Why did he leave in a hurry? What was the obligation? Did he have eight children to feed? Was he late for a wax because he had to meet Ben for a night of smokin' hot butt-fucking? I thought about that heinous possibility for a good twenty minutes on the train, despite logic and reason telling me he was not gay. Um, Edward, not Ben. Hell, how could Ben NOT be gay? He co-starred in a play with Edward Cullen for Christ's sakes! I wouldn't be surprised if Laurent got his ass waxed, too.

These questions ran circles around my brain all night until Sunday morning. After I had beaten the shit out of another monstercockroach, I decided enough was enough! Edward Cullen was not going to write my paper. He would not give me an internship to The New Yorker. I had to do me.

So, I spent all day writing. I don't know how many times I caught myself citing Edward instead of Hamlet, but I finished the paper. It was 3 a.m. Monday morning, but I persevered through the drowsiness. I had Jessica's email from Friday afternoon to fuel me. The New Yorker! The New Yorker internship, my virtual path to success and fortune and glory. It was in my sights like a pot of gold or an award-winning article on genocide in Darfur. I could see it. It was coming. Jacob would not be the only star from Forks. I would be the most Golden Onion in the history of the student newspaper.

I shut my books and saved the draft in my laptop and flash drive, thinking about where Jacob might be this morning. It could be L.A., Memphis, Boston, or Austin; I had no idea. He never got back to me this weekend. There was no text. There was no phone call or voice message. When I called the hotel Saturday afternoon, he and Leah had checked-out. And when I forced my pettiness and pride back to call Leah's cell phone, it went straight to voicemail.

Jake was gone. And he wasn't coming back until September. But who knew what he would be like then? People change in that heady/soul-sucking Hollywood environment. Friday night might have been the last time I would ever see him, the real him.

I walked over to my bed, bleary-eyed, reaching out for my phone. I didn't think I would find anything, but I checked my messages, hoping Jake would have sent me something. Maybe I missed the alert? It was possible.

When I turned the screen on, I saw my wallpaper of my mom and me at her art show back in Phoenix... and a message.

_**Jake:**_ _Im better. u can stop worrying now. heading back to Forks to get some more stuff for the road. I wish we couldve spent more time 2gether. Leah said she tried calling u but u never picked up. Iguess ur busy. Sorry I ruined the night. Bet it was the sushi. I think Im allergic. When I get back to NY in Sept, we can hang out more. Ill be there until November recording. Plane is abt 2take off. Ill call u when we touch down. Bye Bells._

_11:08p.m. Yesterday_

That bitch. That bitch lied and he believed her. _Jake, you poor fool. The day you open your eyes and see her for who she is, you will think it's the worst day when it will actually be the best._

I didn't reply, figuring he was driving to the ferry by now, still sleeping. I was not looking forward to that call. And Jake being in the city for a couple months seemed great when I thought about it at first. But if Leah was there, then it would be as if he wasn't here at all. She would tie him to their bed and fuck him the entire time if she had to.

Ewww, nakie Jakie. Blech.

Suddenly, my stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten since Sunday morning: a red apple. I patted my tummy, trying to think through what the heck I could find in my fridge that I could whip up in five minutes.

The kitchen tiles were cool under my bare feet as I walked to the fridge. When I opened it, there was plenty of salad and fruit to eat, all of which I could have whipped up in a couple of minutes. But today was not the day to eat like a bird. I needed junk food. I needed comfort.

Because now that I had finished my paper, and now that I knew Jake was fine, I could only think about one thing—Edward Cullen.

I leaned against the refrigerator door and shut my eyes, remembering Edward's fresh scent. His touch, his warm long fingers on my cheek... His rich, sad baritone, like a lusty beat in my ears. God, where was he? And why did he have to leave so abruptly?

At the sound of the refrigerator's hum, I opened my eyes and spotted something delicious out of the corner of my eye. It was the chocolate cake I bought for Jacob.

I walked to the counter, grabbing a serving spoon. I tore open the plastic lid. Then, the scent hit me like a wave.

Edward.

His warm chocolate scent from Friday night enveloped me.

"Don't leave," he had pleaded with me in that lovely British accent.

Those eyes that _were_ my kryptonite...

I leaned onto the counter, remembering how frustrated he was, how his green eyes hypnotized me to a point where I wasn't aware of anything but him. Until I saw him without all the makeup on, I could have sworn he was a sorcerer of some kind. I guess a part of me wanted him to be. Maybe then he could wave a wand, say some gibberish, and we could be together, fucking like bunnies.

But he wasn't. He was real... just unattainable.

I groaned, sinking the spoon into the delectable chocolate cake. It was super-soft from sitting in my sauna for a kitchen for nearly a week. I took a bite, moaning. It was so good. I imagined he would taste this sweet... if I ever tasted him.

I grabbed the cake and walked back to my living room. Plopping down on the sofa, I ate a few more bites of the cake before falling into a dreamless sleep overflowing with chocolate.

***Goodnight***

Early the next morning, I headed into the city to hand in my paper to Professor Evans. He had office hours Monday mornings. I walked up from the train station on 8th Street when my phone chimed.

_**Cocksucking Whore**__:The Editor in Chief of The NYer wants to meet me after class on Friday. s excited._

_9:27 a.m._

_**Me**__: How did you do it? Did you eat Esme's pussy? Is she begging for more?_

_9:27 a.m.(Saved to Drafts)_

_**Me**__: Thats so great. Good luck._

_9:30 a.m._

_**Cocksucking Whore**__: ikr? Im freakin out a little._

_9:30 a.m._

Suuuuuuuuure. Freakin out my ass. She probably had dinner with Ms. Evanson last night and had her eating out of her hand, pun intended.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket, raising my fist to knock on Evans's door when suddenly, my phone vibrated.

I figured it was from Jessica, so I ignored it... at first. She probably wanted to share her wardrobe choices with me, lame bitch. A few seconds later, I realized that I couldn't ignore it. I thought about sending the draft just to see what she'd say about the text. So, I pulled my phone out, about to navigate to the message folder when I saw it wasn't a text message. It was an email.

And it wasn't from Jessica. It was from Edward.

_From:"Facebook"_

_To:"Bella Swan"_

_Subject: Edward sent you a message from Facebook._

_I can't stop thinking about you._

I had to read it ten times to make sure it was real. I had to go to my Facebook app to see if it had actually reached my inbox.

It was there.

I didn't know how to reply. I didn't know how to use the touch screen to type. I clawed at my scalp until it ached, trying to dig out the answer.

I decided on something simple when the little icon for new text messages turned red. Was it Edward again? No way. Crap! Did he change his mind?

I covered my eyes, squinting, widening the gap between my middle and ring finger by a centimeter and clicked it.

_Between You and Edward Cullen_

_Edward Cullen May 3, 2010 9:35 a.m._

_I have to see you._

I backed over to the wall and slid down to the floor. Time slowed down. My mind swirled with possible answers, with images of him writing the message, of his long fingers stroking the keyboard like he stroked my face on Saturday. I shut my eyes, remembering his chocolate scent, falling into it, when I heard a door click open.

Was it a door?

I opened my eyes to see Alice Brandon rushing out, flustered. When our eyes met, her face lit up as if she had been waiting to see me all day. But I didn't want to see her, not now. I had to get to Edward.

"Bella! What's up?" she asked, hooking her thumbs in the loops of her sea-green skinny jeans."Why are you on the floor?" She had a slight southern accent that revealed itself when she said certain vowels so her "i's" sounded like "ahs." It was endearing and made her stand out amongst all the other hipsters in our class. It was in and out, though. At times, she sounded no different from the others.

"Um, I read... something unexpected."

"Really? Was it my evite?"

"Uh... yeah," I rubbed my forehead, trying to think through the thick haze Edward's words formed in my mind. "I've been meaning to respond," I said, looking away, rifling through my bag. There was something important in this bag. It had to do with why was I here, didn't it?

"It's the last party of the year, Bella. Come on! I know you have a party bone in there somewhere," she said, her pointer finger forming squiggly lines in the air before poking me on the shoulder.

"I'll think about it," I smiled halfheartedly. "Have a drink on me." I saw my copy dog-eared of Hamlet and a few pages stapled together. I pulled out the paper seeing the title and the haze finally dissipated. Everything came rushing back to me.

"Oh!"

Alice laughed, pulling her fedora off and shaking her shiny wavy black hair. "You look like you found a million dollars then realized you stole it." She leaned in to peek in my bag, but I pulled away.

Alice crossed her arms, looking at me up and down. "You're handing in the final, aren't you?"

I fumbled with the zipper in my satchel, embarrassed all of a sudden.

"Um, yeah... are you?"

She laughed again. I mean, really laughed, her eyes crinkling and everything. It was so infectious, I cracked a smile. Deep down though, I was freaking out.

Because chances were that she might have been here for the same reason I was. And if she was, my chance of being Esme Evanson's intern was screwed. Jessica said the first two submissions were automatically accepted. Jessica was one. Alice could be the second.

"I have no idea where to start, let alone finish." She huffed and I cheered inside. Thank goodness. "He was a concentrated ball of asshole with me. It was humiliating. I don't even know why he's a professor speaking to me like that."

"I'm sorry..."

"Oh please, Bella. Look at you! You can barely hold it in. You're so excited about handing it in first. Care to share why?"

"I'm just... um..." I stared at her belt, trying to come up with anything but the truth. "... ready for the semester to end, ya know? I have a couple of exams coming up but they should be easy."

"Hmm..." She squinted at me, trying to figure me out, but she didn't press me for any more info. "Okay, well then it's time, isn't it?"

Suddenly, my phone vibrated, and I swear my nipples got hard. I hid my hands behind my back as they began to shake. My cheeks got so red, I must have looked like Elmo from Sesame Street.

"Bella, what's wrong, now? Jeez."

"Um, nothing... Sorry, what were you saying?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "I swear, in all the years I've known you, you've never come to any of my parties. Why not live a little? You only get to go to college once."

"Alice, really, I'll think about it." What did Edward want? How could I get out of here as fast as possible? Maybe shove my paper under the door and get myself to that beautiful man as soon as possible? If Evans was in a bad mood, then the last thing he would want is another conference with a student.

"No you won't. But that's fine. We'll just have fun on the 22nd at Fat Black Pussy Cat at 8:00 without you," she said, grinning.

"Oh, okay." I looked over her shoulder at Evans's door, my phone burning my pocket. Edward was one email away. I couldn't be bothered with Alice and her silly party.

"Bella..." she began. Then, she stopped short. "Nah, forget it. Good luck with him," she said, her words all a jumble. She waved over her shoulder, pulling a pair of Ray Bans out of her jean pocket and putting them on.

"Thanks, Alice."

The moment she turned the corner, I yanked my phone out of my pocket, searching for the email.

_From: "Facebook"_

_To: "Bella Swan"_

_Subject: Edward sent you a message from Facebook._

_Meet me at Penn Station in an hour._

My thighs became numb and my ears started ringing. I read the words ten more times before believing them.

He wanted me.

Now, I had to do everything in my power to see him.

I pulled out my paper, bending down to slide it under Mr. Evans's desk, when his door suddenly opened.

"Bella."

"Um, Mr. Evans," I said, offering him the paper. He stared at the paper, astonished, pulling his office door closed behind him.

"I expected you to hand this in early, but not this early." He took it, skimming over my title on the cover page before opening the paper up to the first page.

"I, um I just...I wanted to make sure this was here, I guess."

"The Lion King. A very obvious relation to Hamlet, Bella. I might have to reconsider my recommendation."

"Wait. What?"

What was going on? It seemed like all of the air got sucked out of the hall and everything went silent. I crossed my arms, trying not to get pissed. He couldn't figure out why I was. I shouldn't know what he meant by recommendation.

"Bella, you have been one of the best students I have ever had at Tisch."

"Thank you..."

"Welcome. Now," he cleared his throat. "You know that I was an editor for The New Yorker before coming to Tisch."

I didn't really have time for a biography of Professor Evans's life. It would take twenty minutes to get to Penn Station if I didn't have to wait for the train. I had about forty-five, but I didn't want to take any chances by cutting it close. Whatever Evans had to say, he had to say it now.

"Yes, very well, sir."

"And you are aware of their internship program with the Editor in Chief, Esme Evanson?"

"Absolutely. I have been following Esme's career very closely for the past year. Her article on Paul Newman last year was superb." Mrs. Evanson was my idol. Aside from Anna Wintour at Vogue, it was still hard to come by female editors in chief, especially for a magazine that did not fill its pages with perfume and "the essentials" for a summer 2010 wardrobe.

"I've looked through your transcript, spoken with your other professors...It looks like you should be the perfect candidate for this position. But your choice of The Lion King and Hamlet is very disappointing."

I was swimming in a vat of emotions. What the hell was going on, here? I bust my butt all weekend for this position. Now he's telling me after reading the title alone, that he thinks I'm no longer a candidate for the internship? And what about what Jessica said about the first two submissions being automatically accepted? Unless the bitch _was_ lying to me, like I suspected...

Was it sabotage? Did I do this for nothing because that bitch was playing games with me?

"Maybe if you read the rest, you'll see..." I choked out and felt tears burning my eyes because I was becoming so upset. Evans stood back, sort of weirded out by my display of emotions, so I tried to smile, blinking back the tears.

"Bella, it's okay, sweetie." He tilted his head to the side, concerned but still standoffish. "You are not out of the running yet. I will read this as I will read all potential candidates for the internship. I am sure you did a good job. I was expecting more, is all. You are a fine student, Bella."

"Please give me that chance. I worked really hard on this paper."

"I am sure you did. I will let you know if you have been accepted on Friday. See you then, Bella." He slid my paper into his attaché case. Then, he reached out for a moment as if wanting to console me. But, he pulled back, turned around, and walked down the hallway towards the exit.

I grabbed my phone to check the time. 9:56 a.m.

"Motherfucker!"

I ran towards the other exit, navigating to my Facebook app to reply to his message.

_Between You and Edward Cullen_

_Bella Swan May 3, 2010 9:58 a.m._

_Iwant to see you tooo._

Racing down the stairs to the 8th Street station, the memory from Saturday's matinee of thinking I had missed him then meeting him like the fates were intervening, made me feel hopeful. They would walk right in and help me see Edward again, even though I had like 18 minutes to get to Penn Station, and the underground train station has no reception. So, if he sent me another message, I wouldn't know it until I arrived.

I crossed the turnstile and hurried down to the platform. Who knew when the next train would arrive but the platform was pretty packed, which meant people were waiting for a while and that one should be coming soon.

I paced back and forth, pulling my phone out to check the time. Still no train after a couple of minutes. Oh God.

Mid-pace, I spotted a familiar face walking down the platform. Jessica Stanley.

"Hey, Bella! What's up?" Jessica's shrill voice called out to me. Every nerve in my body buzzed. I wanted to strangle her for what she did to me, but I did not have the time or the emotional capacity to deal with her. I had to see Edward.

She approached me make-up free, her hair in a ponytail, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. It was so unlike her. She wouldn't dress like this if someone paid her in pink diamonds.

"I just handed in my paper to Evans," I said, scowling at her. "And I'm running late for an appointment," I said, yawning. "Excuse me."

"Really?" Her face fell. Then, she asked, "Why so early? You didn't have to submit it for another couple of weeks."

I laughed, my exhaustion leaving me in the strangest moods. That wasn't even funny, not after the hell I went through writing my paper all to get me to fuck it up.

"You told me-" I pulled out my phone to find my text message from Saturday night, which she wrote in caps. I might have been in a tizzy over Leah Saturday, and my memory had been porous lately, but that text had been branded in my brain for the last two days. When I found it, I showed it to her.

"You told me here, and I quote: 'First two papers submitted get auto accepted to the internship at The New Yorker. Dude.'"

Her mouth went agape then, she shut it quickly.

"Umm..." She sighed. "When did I send this?"

"Saturday night. What? You don't remember?"

"I...the, uh, date of the submission doesn't matter. It's based on the best two papers, not the first two."

The train rumbled into the station at the moment, and I had a half a mind to push her in front of it. All of my suspicions were right!

"So you knew," I sneered, nearly throwing the phone at her. "This entire time, you knew that I didn't have to be one of the first." I had hoped deep down that I was being paranoid, but this was Jessica Stanley we were talking about here.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I can barely remember Saturday night. I was wasted. I went out with the girls and..."

"You're going to blame this on alcohol? On hanging out with your friends? You tried to sabotage me, didn't you? You wanted me to write a shitty paper so that I wouldn't get the internship."

Oddly enough, she seemed genuinely shocked about this. She shook her head, her eyes beseeching mine. She was a stellar actress, that's all. Her best actress nominations would be rolling in next year like a red carpet. But, Leah would win best actress. No one could beat Leah in this category, not even Meryl Streep herself.

"Bella, I'm so sorry-" The train flew forward, blowing my hair all around my face, so loud that I could not hear the rest of her apology. But it didn't matter what she said; it was just another one of her lies. The train slowed when I answered her.

"I- I didn't. I would never-"

"Don't talk to me ever again!"

"Bella, it was a simple mistake. Calm down!"

"Just shut up. Shut the fuck up you cocksucking whore!"

I had wanted to tell her that for months now. It felt so good to say it aloud. The doors opened and I hurried inside, the other people in the station staring at me in shock.

"But, Bella, we're like...besties," she called after me.

"Uptown R to Queens. Stand clear of the closing doors," a disgruntled conductor said over the speakers. As the doors closed, I glared at her through the windows, about to lose my head. I could not believe that bitch might get the internship over me. This world was so fucked up.

I suppose the good thing about it was that if she did and I didn't, I wouldn't have to see her ass all summer.

Her drunk texts ruined my entire weekend and possibly my chances of getting that internship. Evans was "disappointed." He could choose a better paper tomorrow. And what if two spots weren't available? What if it was just one? What if I was competing against several others for that one spot?

Her influence on the professors at Tisch did not lessen my vitriol. I refused to play her fucked up game for one more moment.

By the time I arrived at Penn Station, it was 10:30. I was wheezing after a couple of minutes of running, checking my emails every minute for a reply from Edward. By the time I approached 7th Avenue, my phone vibrated in my hands and I had to stop and catch my breath just to read it.

_From:"Facebook"_

_To:"Bella Swan"_

_Subject: Edward sent you a message from Facebook._

_Bella, I'm sorry. I had to leave. I will try to send you a message soon._

Every cell in my body burst.

I cursed Atropos and her goddamn shears.

I cursed God.

And I felt the remnants of my composure fade as Evans's disappointment, Jessica's lies, and Edward's absence seared my brain and tore up my mind.

"Good-night, ladies; good-night, sweet ladies; good-night, good-night," as Ophelia said, non compos mentis. Lights out.

Bye bye, nice Bella. "I'm too afraid of telling a bitch off who's ruining my best friend's life" Bella.

Bye bye, sanity. I was going to get what I wanted, no matter what. And no one, nothing, not even logic, would stop me.

* * *

A/N: Bye :)


	8. Chapter 7 An Unnecessary Truth

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7: ****An Unnecessary Truth**

**May 7, 2010**

The sun shone through my windows Friday morning, painting my living room in its warmth and exuberance. The air was fresh and the blue skies clear. I could have sworn I heard some birds chirping nearby, but none of these wonderful things registered at all in my mind.

It might as well have been raining blue gum drops for all I cared. Jessica Stanley and Edward Cullen were like dark clouds over my head, the former's presence as devastating as the latter's absence.

While brushing my teeth before class, Jessica's sabotage reared its ugly head. Her claims that I was her "bestie," and she didn't remember texting me about the internship was like a slap in the face. Was that all she got? If she wanted to ruin my life, then she should have been upfront about it.

I slammed my toothbrush on my sink. Seeing Jessica in class again today without strangling her would be so fucking hard.

In a mood, I hurried out of my apartment to Eastern Parkway for the train station. Throughout the night, a thunderstorm drenched the streets of Crown Heights. Now, the sun had dug itself out from the clouds, shining down on the concrete earth. I reached the Parkway where trees lined the streets and the blinding sunlight reflected off of their wet leaves. There was a mix of green and gold, just like Edward's eyes.

When I ran down to the train station, I saw a couple embracing at the turnstiles. The man, his palm big enough to span the right side of his lover's face, stroked her cheek the way Edward stroked mine on Saturday.

I wanted to strangle that man!

Edward was virtually dead. I sent him a dozen emails and didn't hear a word. I composed them on the train ride to school, emotional instability ransacking my body and soul. There was more than one occasion when my phone would vibrate, and I felt like throwing it across the street, because just like the rest of my messages, they were not from Edward.

It was usually a message from Jessica, apologizing for being the devil incarnate (my words, not hers).

I got to class with the same plans for Edward and Jessica. I had the solution. The one thing that would solve my madness: I would strangle them both. Yes, a double homicide. That would solve everything.

I slumped down low in my seat a few minutes late, Evans giving me the eye._ I know, dude, I know. I'm slacking. Give me a break! I handed in my final on Monday. I don't have to be here. Jerk. Why don't you go and be "disappointed" in someone else?_

Jessica's seat was vacant, which was weird, but I was thankful. I hoped she never showed.

For the first time all semester, Alice was there. She sat next to Erik Yorkie, who wore an identical white and gold scarf. I didn't know they were friends yet there they were, dressing up like a bad romcom waiting to happen.

Even though I was ten minutes late to class, I didn't miss much. Professor Evans was in the middle of explaining to that idiot Lauren that she couldn't do her paper on one of those popular vampire films because it was released in the 21st century. Towards the end of class, she had the audacity to broach the subject again.

"But, professor, it's perfect. It's Romeo & Juliet with vampires!" she whined...for five minutes... and it was trying everyone's patience, especially mine. I was about to run up the stairs and slap her when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

Just like every other time this week, I overreacted. I flung my arm back with the speed of one of those vampires Lauren spoke of, digging into my back pocket. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I couldn't help it.

I heard the entire class gasp, but it didn't faze me. The words, "Edward Cullen sent you a message on Facebook..." flashed across my mind. I didn't give a fuck if everyone thought I was crazy.

When I pulled it out, the home screen lit up with a photo of a new text message.

I cussed aloud, a couple of gasps coming from behind me.

Immediately, I ignored the voice in my head screaming that it might be Edward. There was no way he could have found my phone number on Facebook.

Begrudgingly, I opened the message. And there it was: a text. It wasn't from one of my contacts, but from a number I had become all too familiar with this week. It was from Satan's blackened heart― Jessica.

Great, another loser/nerd moment for Bella Swan. "_Stand up and bow for your audience who'll mock you._ Unlike the moment at the New School Theater, a Denmark prince with hair as red as lava wouldn't run up to me, begging me to stay after class. I was here to wallow in my humiliation alone.

I deleted the message, feeling the eyes of 26 people focused on the back of my head. I heard Lauren snicker, and Erik tell Alice, "And you didn't want to come to class today."

Death by decapitation. I needed a guillotine. There shall be no cake for that bitch. Death and only death. Cold, horrible, bloody death.

As Evans neared the end of his lecture, he glanced at me every so often, a questioning look on his face. On Monday, I nearly broke down in front of him when I realized that Jessica had sabotaged me. At times, he looked like he wanted to admit me to Bellevue. There was no way he would give me the recommendation, now. There goes my future in magazines.

The second Evans dismissed us, I rushed out to the hall, anxious to get home to where no one would judge me for what they didn't understand. But Alice caught up to me in the hallway, all eyes staring.

"Bella, are you alright?" Alice asked me.

My phone vibrated against my hip once more. I checked the message this time and, again, it was from Jessica.

"Fuck no! Dammit! Sorry. Alice, give me a second."

I read this one, wondering what the fuck her problem was. Did her pimp attack her? Please let that be true.

_(347-555-3469): Hello! Where are u? What did I miss?_

_1:24 p.m._

_Me: Find out 4 yourself._

_1:25 p.m._

"What's up?" I asked Alice, crossing my arms.

"Everyone was so worried about you," she said, genuinely concerned. As our classmates exited the room, all I saw was indifference, derision, and a modicum of pity. So, which person was she talking about, exactly?

"I'm feeling homicidal," I said, cocking an eyebrow. Why was Alice here giving me small talk? Another party?

"I'm sorry to hear that," she whined insincerely."But it can't be all that bad. School is over in a couple weeks!"

"Mmm do you want?"

She put on a hunter green fedora. With her white and gold scarf, the combo might have been overlooked by others, but not by me.

Edward would go by asphyxiation... after a hard fuck of course. A girl had needs! Maybe I could whip him to death.

"I feel like I need a translator every time I try to read Shakespeare. It doesn't make any sense, even after this class. And the essays I've been researching make even less... You really like my hat, don't you?" she said, laughing.

I blushed furiously, feeling like I had been caught masturbating.

"Sorry. Um, let me ask you something. Do you even like Shakespeare?"

"God no. I hate this class! Everyone does. Don't you?" _Fucking hell, Alice! A waste of your parents' time and money. Just drop out!_

"You must have parents who love you a whole lot." I sneered.

"What do you mean?" She finally caught up to my change in mood and the lights in her brown eyes flickered.

"You take a lot for granted, that's all. You should learn to appreciate what you have."

She crossed her arms, sizing me up. "Where do you get off? You don't know anything about me."

"I know that you're a spoiled brat who wastes your parents' money on a five-star education to party your brain cells away," I spat. It felt so good to release all the tension I had building all week to this spoiled Paris Hilton wannabe.

"Wrong, Bella. I work harder than this entire class, combined. You don't know the kind of work I do, real work. All you do is come to class and write papers." The more agitated she became, the thicker her accent.

"Hosting parties is real work? Oh, that's so fucking hard to do. Call me when you're slaving away all hours of the night at a factory in China."

Alice shook her head, fuming. She began tapping her foot, frustrated as all get out. And I wondered for a split second if she was going to hit me, her little fists balled up into bright pink balls at her waist, but then, nothing.

"You're right," she said, sighing, loosening her fists.

"Wait, what?"

"My mom has been such a bitch recently, shoving her 'quality education is a privilege in this country' dogma down my throat. And I know it's important but writing is not what I want to do."

I scoffed, disgusted. There were millions of people in New York City alone who would kill to earn a degree at Tisch, and here she was, complaining about it not being for her?

"Why are you even here if you don't want to be? No one has a knife at your throat, forcing you to stay."

"Wrong again, Bella," she said, loosening her scarf around her neck. Then, she chuckled."You don't know who my mom is, do you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Anna Wintour? Oh, are you the devil's spawn, then?" I clucked my tongue, suddenly feeling sorry for her. "Ooh, your life must suck soggy donkey balls."

"Nope," she said, the light blazing in her eyes this time. "Not Anna. Another illustrious editor—Esme Evanson."

If someone told me yesterday that Alice Brandon was Esme Evanson's daughter, I would expect his or her cell phone to ring and to hear Courtney Love's voice on the other end, demanding her crack pipe back.

I looked at Alice skeptically. "You're mom is... Esme Evanson?" I asked more like a statement.

Alice made a face, pulling her scarf off of her neck. We stood in the now empty hall, the lights going off in all of the adjacent classrooms.

"Don't talk about her as if she's God. She's not," Alice said.

"I don't think she's God. I was surprised, that's all. Different last names, different vibe..." Alice didn't look anything like Ms. Evanson. Besides being a brunette, they shared no features. It was like Christie Brinkley and her daughter, Alexa, who was the spitting image of Billy Joel. Alice wasn't a buttaface, though.

"Yeah, Brandon is my dad's last name, which I kept after their divorce."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It happened years ago."

"Oh. Well, I guess I get why you came to Tisch, now."

She tapped the tip of her nose with her forefinger as if to say, "You hit it right on the nose."

"This is her alma mater. And because she and Evans are so chummy, she 'strongly suggested' I take his class. I fucking hate this shit. That Romeo and Juliet nonsense is for the birds."

I gave her a sideways glance just as I saw Evans walk out of the classroom.

"Bella, I need to speak with you for a moment," he called out.

Alice rolled her scarf around in her hands. Her face turned beat red.

"Um, I have to ask you something, too," Alice said under her breath, rubbing her ruddy cheek with her right hand. "But it can wait. I'll email you."

"OK. Hey, sorry for being such a bitch earlier. I've just had a rough week."

"Really? What could possibly stress you out? I thought your finals were over?"

I shook my head, wishing my life was as simple as she thought it was.

"Life, Alice. Life."

"We can talk about it if you want. I'm a great listener."

"Um... OK. If it gets unbearable, you'll be the first person I call."

"Cool. Good luck with that," she said, "that" meaning Evans. Monday, she met him for some help on her paper, and judging by her sudden nerves, he still didn't help her. I could see Evans's side in this. She did skip over half of the semester, but I felt bad for calling her spoiled. I would hate to do something I had no interest in for four years. And Alice seemed so resentful when talking about Ms. Evanson. It was almost as bad as I felt about Charlie.

Saying nothing else, Alice turned around, her shoulders slumped over. She was so unlike the bright, cheerful girl I saw on Monday.

"Is everything alright with you?" Evans asked as I approached him.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

He rubbed his chin. "For one, I just heard you arguing with Alice. Did she say something to you?"

"No, sir. She's cool."

He looked at me skeptically. "Alright, well, why did you react like that in class? Did it have to do with someone named, 'Edward'?"

What the hell? How did he know about Edward?

"What?" I gulped audibly.

"I guess it does. He was someone you mentioned in your paper."

"Um... I'm sorry." Damn, I thought I caught all of those. Then, a horrible prospect hit me. "Does this mean you didn't give me the recommendation?"

"No, I did..."

"You did?"

"You raised some excellent points."

"I did?" Every time I responded, my voice went up an octave. I was close to squeaking.

"Yes, Bella, let me finish," Evans said, grinning. "And my colleagues agreed that you were one of the best students this year."

"Wow. Even Professor Golden? He doesn't like anybody."

"Yes, even him. But you have seemed a bit unstable this week. This internship can be quite stressful. And Esme leaves very little room for error."

"Does that mean she saw the mistake I made on my paper?"

"I'm sure she has with her meticulous eye," he sighed, studying me for a moment. Then, "Apparently, it did not matter. She would like to see you on Monday morning at 11:00 a.m. for an interview."

"What? Seriously?"

"Like I said, she was very impressed, despite the error. But you better not embarrass me with any more mistakes. Esme has a strict, three-strike rule, and you have one against you so far." He buttoned up his black raincoat.

"Oh, no, sir. I-"

"Be ready. Kate, her assistant, will interview you. And she's tough. I used to work with her as well. Now..." he checked his watch. "...whatever is going on with you, you need to get a handle on. Your performance at The New Yorker this summer will affect the rest of your life."

"I promise, I'll-"

"Good. Now, I have another appointment. I will see you next week," he said, beginning to walk away.

"Okay. And thank you for everything!"

He nodded, pushing open the door to the hall, bumping into someone. The door swung closed before I could see who it was, but I heard him yell.

"I thought I told you not to come!"

They walked away before I heard anything else, Evans's and the unknown person's muffled voices going further and further away. I took a step toward the door, wondering if I should find out who it was, but a part of me felt like I knew already. Jessica.

She was absent today, and she had a knack for annoying people so much, they never wanted to see her. But why wouldn't he want her in class?

Maybe Evans was her pimp…

I chuckled, shaking my head. Really, who would want to pimp her out? Her babbling would make any dude soft like a pancake.

I headed towards the other exit, not caring about what was really going on with them. It was an unnecessary truth to seek. Whatever it was had to deal with Jessica, the thorn in my side ever since I came to Tisch. And my intuition told me that the more I learned about her, the more thorns I would have in my life. As if I needed any more.

When I looked out the window, I backed away from the door. There was a deluge outside. I could barely see across the street.

So, I pulled out my phone and called the only person in the world that I knew who would appreciate my amazing news. Whether he would pick up the phone or not was the real question.

"Bells." His voice was weird, cold.

"Jake! Finally."

"I'm the one who thought you dropped off the face of the earth. Why didn't you return Leah's calls last week?"

Okay, maybe this wasn't the right person to call.

"Ever thought she lied to you?"

"Bella, come on. Why would she?"

"Because she's the embodiment of evil. I don't know? Can we not talk about Leah? In fact, let's never discuss her again, deal?"

"Sure, whatever, why not. What's going on?" He sounded a bit less angry, so I gave him the good news.

"I'm better than I've been all week, thanks for asking. Looks like you won't be the only Forks native who'll be famous, Jake!"

I told him about the internship, for which he congratulated me, but swore up and down that he would always be more famous. I told him if I heard his song on the radio by next year, he would claim the title. He told me if he saw an article of mine in The New Yorker in two years, I would get it.

"Why two? I can do it in one!"

"If you get an article in The New Yorker in a year, I'll pay you a million dollars."

"Deal!"

The storm ended as our conversation ended, and I headed home almost skipping my way through the MTA system. When I got home, I double-checked my resume for errors, glad I didn't find Edward's name anywhere in the document.

I printed a few copies when I got a Facebook notification of a new message. It wasn't from Edward. As promised, it was from Alice.

_To: Bella Swan_

_From: Brandon Inc._

_Subject: Help!_

_I need a huge favor. I haven't read Hamlet since high school and even then, I couldn't understand it. Erik told me you were the smartest girl in class, and I hope you have enough time for it. Can you help me with decoding the text?_

_Thanks, Bella._

So, that was why she was "worried" about me earlier. And that was why she didn't curse me out after I called her a spoiled brat. She wanted me to "decode" Shakespeare like I was Neo in the Matrix.

Did she try reading at all? I bet she wanted me to write the paper for her. I shook my head, trying to find the humor in all of this. If I ever met a person that talked straight to me, that just told me what they wanted from the get go, I would marry him... or her, even if I had to go to Massachusetts to do it.

Ever since our encounter on Saturday, I thought Edward was that kind of person, direct and to the point. But after not hearing from him for a week, I guess he wasn't. And even if he was, I would never find out because he hadn't replied to any of my messages. Still.

I replied to Alice's message, telling her that I would help her and to meet me Monday afternoon at the 42nd Street library. You better believe I would help her. She was Ms. Evanson's daughter. If she could use me, I could use her right back.

Jacob told me he had an appointment a few minutes after I sent the message so we said our goodbyes, and I was left alone, again, with my thoughts of Edward.

It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. Was he in trouble? Was he alive?

I wanted to put all of this behind me. I had to rev up for Kate, who Evans said was "tough." But I spent Friday night doing the same thing I had done every night since Monday, watching Edward's favorite Tennessee Williams films on Netflix, eating a brownie from a local bakery.

Edward's Facebook page revealed a lot about him. He listed a dozen of his Shakespearean plays, along with his favorite Tennessee Williams films. I was familiar with all of the Shakespeare, stunned he liked _Titus_ more than _Macbeth_ but intrigued by what Williams had to say in his plays. I was only vaguely familiar with "A Streetcar Named Desire" and even though I saw "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" in class last semester, I didn't remember much.

Towards the bottom of his collection of favorite films was one that I didn't think anyone else liked, let alone heard of: Darren Aronofsky's _Requiem for a Dream. _It was one of my favorites, too, even though I hadn't seen it since I wasn't supposed to have seen it in junior high school. Jake was such a chickenshit back then, stealing _The Matrix _from the video store instead.

It was creepy and sexy and _real_. After one sitting, I swore I would never use drugs. Heroin, Ecstasy, crack, whatever, was _whack_.

I yearned to know Edward's feelings about the film so badly; yet, it would be just another part of him that I may never get to know, now. He had become a ghost, just like I had feared.

I opened a Netflix account and borrowed both of Williams's films immediately, "The Glass Menagerie" in my queue. And every night since Monday, I devoured a different brand of chocolate, hoping to capture his unique scent but failing every single time.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye**


	9. Chapter 8 A Very Necessary Truth

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

**Music Recommendation: "Unthinkable (I'm Ready)" by Alicia Keys**

* * *

**Chapter 8 A Very Necessary Truth**

**May 9, 2010**

Monday morning.

The first day of the rest of my life.

The first day of the truth.

I had the interview at eleven, then I had to meet Alice at 3 at the 42nd St. Library.

I woke up at 8 a.m. Back to the usual, the return of the monstercockroach. This one fell on my head while I was in the shower, bounced off onto its back. Its legs writhed in the air desperately. As I screamed, water and soap got into my eyes and going down my throat. It slid down the drain, back to the darkness, back to its home: hell.

"Motherfucker! Fucker! Fucker! Fucker! You're gonna pay for that!"

I shook off my nerves, washed my hair again, and jumped out of the shower. I left the hot water running, steam rising up from the tub. The piece of shit must have been cursing me as its body boiled from the scalding hot waterfall. Oh well.

I called the super, demanding he call an exterminator today. That was the last time one of those suckers plopped on my head. The jerk told me I had to pay for it. Rather than continue to fight, I decided to leave the bill at his door and a pile of the dozen or so squished monstercockroaches I killed before the exterminator came. Ass.

After the interview and my tutoring session with Alice, I had to look for a new place. I would have to ask my mom if it was okay to sublet... or demand it. Maybe a dorm room in the Village. I could handle co-ed bathrooms, rambunctious frat boys as neighbors, and nosy roommates who would steal my food... or not.

Maybe I should find a roommate in South Slope first...

I put on my suit, trying to clear my mind of how the bug's heavy body felt on my head. I could not speak to Esme Evanson this morning and be this rattled.

Before I left, I turned off my A/C and looked out the window at the hazy sunrise. Everyone looked miserable, sweating through their clothing. Just another 70 degree morning in May. I didn't want to ruin the suit, and I could never walk in heels. I put on a t-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. Carefully folding the suit and shoes in my satchel, I realized the last time it was this warm was the last time I saw Edward on Saturday.

_"I just know I had to see you... and that I have to see you again."_

He said that last week, in the flesh, as I drowned in his eyes. Now, he had dropped off the face of the earth? Was he in trouble? Was he alive?

All weekend, I had been trying hard to put all of this behind me. I had to rev up for Kate, who Evans said was "tough." And I tried tricking myself into believing that watching his favorite Tennessee Williams films while eating a brownie from a local bakery was much less desperate than sending him Facebook messages... even though I watched "_Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" _ten times in two days, imagining Edward as Paul Newman's character, Brick, standing in the rain... dripping wet.

Yes, I was totally focused. Totally.

Throughout the train ride to Manhattan, I went over my three best qualities for the interview: honesty, perseverance, and wit. Stopping at a Starbucks nearby to change, I put on the black pin-striped dress suit. Then, I dabbed on some lip-gloss, in the same hue as my soft-pink satin blouse. My shoes worked perfectly with everything except for my feet: black suede peep-toes with a high thin heel. Walking in these painful bad boys would be an accident waiting to happen.

I didn't really like putting on make-up, but freshman year, I took a dress-for-success workshop that taught us how to apply it. It took another twenty minutes to get all of that right, but when I was done, I looked perfect. My mom would be proud. It was a pity I got shipped off to Forks before she taught me how to do it as well as she does.

I checked my watch: 10:25 a.m. Despite how slowly I had to walk in my heels, that was plenty of time to head on over to Broadway and 40th and still be on-time.

I arrived in the lobby, showing the security guard my ID, a label printed out with my photo, as if I was official. _A sign of things to come, maybe? Laminate that tag for the summer intern position, sir!_

I arrived on the 30th floor ready to chat. I had all my points in order. No one could stump me.

What was my weakness? I overwork myself. I'm too ambitious.

Why do I want to work here? The New Yorker is one of the most prestigious magazines in the world. It would be an honor to work here and contribute any way I could.

The twenty minutes that I spent awaiting Kate was pretty easy breezy. I read Ms. Evanson's last editor's note of The New Yorker before the receptionist and I chatted about school. Candice had a lot of spunk for a receptionist. I wished I could have had the interview with her rather than Kate, who was running late.

Candice and I got to talking about _"The Jersey Shore,"_ and Ms. Evanson's stance on it. She was a big fan, even though she was Italian. She compared it to The Godfather and other films that glorified the mob, depicting Italians just as negatively as Snooki and The Situation. The receptionist did not agree at all. Even though she wasn't Italian, she thought it was just shitty television. I agreed. I saw one episode, and it was enough. Might as well watch a bunch of cavemen with orange spray tans get drunk. We laughed about the rumor that The Situation would do Dancing with The Stars this fall when I heard a door open.

"Ms. Swan?" Ms. Evanson said as she walked out of her office. She wore a white sheath dress, with bright red lips and sleek brown hair.

She was all that I had imagined—professional, confident, and exemplary. I wiped my hand on my skirt before shaking her hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Ms. Evanson." I stuttered. Blushing furiously, I followed her into her office.

It wasn't just any office. I could see the jumbotrons in Times Square from here. The couches were beige leather, all the furniture glass and steel, very now and the future. This could be my future if I played my cards right.

"Have a seat." She smiled, her brown eyes bright and warm. I had not expected it. I thought she would be as cold as the steel on her desk. I guess Alice was more like her than I thought.

I sat down, crossing my legs like a lady, my toes burning even sitting down.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I thought Kate would hold the interview?"

Ms. Evanson grinned, asking for my resume. I reached into my leather-bound portfolio and handed it to her.

"That young woman you spoke to outside was Kate."

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me?"

"You did a great job. Don't worry about it. Now, I have some questions of my own for you."

"Oh. Okay." My weakness is my ability to handle stressful situations well, but I believe in solving problems through strategic planning and taking preventative measures...

"Why do you want to be a journalist, Bella?"

I blinked, surprised she would ask me that question. I was here to mail manuscripts and file articles. Why would the Editor in Chief of The New Yorker care about my career goals? But it was something that I had been thinking about for years, since I was the editor of my high school newspaper, The Golden Onion. So, if she wanted to know, I had an answer for her.

"I've always been interested in finding the truth about things. Well, a necessary truth. The 21st century in America is an age about propaganda and faux journalists chasing gossip stories that at the end of the day, mean nothing. I would like to be an ambassador of real journalism, writing about stories with integrity. Take _"The Jersey Shore__,__" _for instance. I would consider writing about who these guidos and guidettes really are, why it's a show that America has fallen for, and why America has made guilty pleasures in general so popular in the last decade."

"A 'why' girl." She "hmmmed."

"Excuse me?"

"You ask 'why,' which is journalism 101 to many."

"And to you, if I recall. You said so in your editor's note in last month's issue."

"You're right. I did."

Score for Bella. I am on my way to getting a laminated tag!

"Alright, tell me this. Who is Edward?"

I bit my lip, flashes of his eyes and hair and scent, his frustrating absence, hitting me at once. I took a deep breath, trying to remain composed. Why didn't I think of _that _answer before I got here? I should have known it was coming.

"It's a misprint and a shoddy proofreading job. I apologize for that. I wrote this in a day."

She cocked her eyebrow. "One day..." She "hmmmed" again, laying my resume on the desktop. What could that mean? Was it good? Was it bad? What was she trying to say?

"He must mean a lot to you if you equivocated him with Hamlet. You write about Shakespeare's hero with such fervor, Bella."

"Thank you." _That must be a good thing. I hope it's good. Just tell me if I've been accepted or not, already! _

"Okay. Well, it was nice to meet you." She stood up, offering her hand.

_That's it? This can't be good. Who had an interview for five minutes? _I closed my portfolio, shaking her hand. I smiled, thanking her, my legs wobbly as I stood up.

"Please leave a copy of your resume and a list of references with Kate."

I nodded, facing the door. My legs were too wobbly, though, and I stumbled forward, almost falling on my face.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, steadying myself with the back of the leather chair.

"Are you alright, Bella?" Ms. Evanson asked.

I straightened my jacket, cursing every designer from Nine West for these contraptions. Chinese water torture had nothing on 6-inch peep toes.

"I'm okay. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Evanson."

"It was nice to meet you, too, Bella."

Offering "Candice" my resume and reference letter on the way out, she shrugged.

"Sorry about that earlier," she said. Then she lowered her voice. "She was bored this morning, or something. She wanted to test your communication skills so asked me to hold a regular conversation with you. By the way, you did great."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. There was another interview with a girl last week and, just between us, we both absolutely hated her."

Oh shit! Wasn't Jessica here last week?

"Um, was it for this position?"

"It was. There's no way Esme would want her interning here. You're as good as in."

I nodded, gulping, beyond shocked. Perhaps for the first time in her life, Jessica would not get her way. Maybe for the first time since freshman year, I would be involved in something without the bitch competing against me.

I walked to the elevator, finally feeling positive about something. I never wanted to take the tag off. It was a sign of good things to come.

I saw a bathroom in the first-floor lobby and thought about taking my suit off before heading back outside, i.e. the ninth circle of hell, when I thought I saw someone familiar across the street and not just anyone, Edward.

I recognized the wild red hair, the strut, his height. It was unmistakably him. He was smoking a cigarette, even. What was he doing here?

I opened the door to get a better look, but he turned the corner before I could see his face. I crossed the street, hurrying as fast as I could to catch up to him. When I turned the corner, I watched him drop the cigarette butt to the ground and step on it. Then, he descended the stairs into the subway station.

How could we be in the same place at the same time in this concrete jungle, without it meaning something? Without it being fate? Fate was finally on my side, and I would finally find out the truth—a very necessary truth.

I sped up, but my feet screamed for me to slow down. I got to the station, unable to take it anymore, and yanked them off. Then, I ran down the steps, the bottom of my stockings ripping on the granite and concrete. There was a line at the turnstile ahead, the back of Edward's head above everyone else's. He stood at the front of the line, pushing the sleeves of his mint green button-down shirt up his forearms. As he crossed the turnstile, he ran his hand through his hair.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! Please!" I tried to move pass them, but they wouldn't budge.

There was no way I could catch him. He would reach his train, whichever one it was, before I could pull out my Metrocard.

The fates weren't on my side after all. They never had been. They took my mother away from me when I was 13. They shoved me, kicking and screaming, into the lamest town on the West Coast. Then, they brought the Devil's black hollow heart, Jessica Stanley, into my life. They must have been toasting to the latest turn of events, getting drunk off of my misfortune.

As Edward hurried to his destination, his fire diminishing, I could almost hear the fates' jeers as they helped Edward along, out of my sight, out of my life.

I hoped the fates choked on their champagne.

"Fuckers! Move!"

Everyone stepped aside, letting me pass, cursing me out but cooperating.

There was no way I would let Edward out of my sight without giving him a piece of my mind. I thought he was dead for goodness sakes!

I crossed the turnstile, my suit now soaked with sweat, my feet throbbing, my heart racing. Miraculously, I could see the top of his head, a blazing fire over the crowd. He was headed for the N/Q line.*

"Edward!" I called, out of breath. He didn't hear me, not slowing down or reacting in any way.

"Edward! Edward, wait!" As quickly as possible, I put my shoes back on, and hurried on. "Wait!"

His shoulders tensed. Then, he turned around slowly, searching the crowd with those eyes, my kryptonite. Even from this distance, they lit up when our eyes met. As they opened wide his face blanched as if he had seen a ghost. Then, he seemed to catch himself, the light dying, a wall going up.

He blinked, taking a deep breath. As I approached, I felt a sense of déjà-vu, remembering the night of the play. Except now, the roles were reversed. He had been out of breath that night, requesting my patience. Now, I was out of breath, pursuing the truth.

If there was a time to have a clusterfuck of emotions in my life, it was now. I never wanted to profess my love and damn a person to hell simultaneously before. He deserved the latter in spades, but my soul sung Celine Dion like nobody's business. "You're here! There's nothing to fear" and all that.

He was alive. He wasn't injured. This whole time, he was perfectly fine. In fact, he was better than fine. He looked even more handsome than I had ever seen him. And yet, he never replied to my message. Not one.

"Hi," I said.

"Bella, I-" He started.

We said this simultaneously. I breathed him in, the unorthodox cologne, chocolate and cigarette smoke. I wondered why he smelled this way again, the exact same chocolate from the first night we met. Did he have a chocolate factory hidden somewhere in New York?

"I can't believe you're here! I thought I would never see you again," I had to yell over the crowd, running and screaming, converging where we stood.

"I didn't either. Uh," he paused, scratching his jaw which was covered in an auburn scruff. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he grabbed me by my shoulders, pulling me to the side.

"What-" A burly guy ran passed us, within inches of bumping into me if Edward hadn't pulled me out of the way.

"Are you alright?" he asked, rubbing my shoulders.

"Yes. What a jerk!" I frowned, looking behind him. Whoever it was disappeared into the crowd. "So, what happened to you?"

Drawing in a deep breath, he let go of me, backing away, slowly. Just like on Saturday, the skin where he held me tingled. I walked forward, drawn to him. But his hands rose as if to stop me from coming any closer.

As his eyes met mine, I hoped to see a strain of the wonder that had been there before, but the dam had been built. He was really leaving without explanation... again.

"I'm running late." His voice was like ten pounds of lead, hard and heavy.

"What? Why?"

"I've... made a mistake."

"What mistake? Bumping into each other here in this station was not a mistake. It was like... it was fate."

He squinted down at me, his face a flux of emotion. Then, he shoved his hands in his pockets. The viridian was as shielded as ever, the gold around his irises that I had seen the first night we met now as dull as sulfur.

"I shouldn't have asked you to meet me last week. I'm sorry."

"Why not?"

He rubbed his forehead, not answering. Something was on the tip of his tongue, but he would not say it.

"Edward!" I reached out to him to keep our connection. There was something so potent about our touches. If I could hold him and remind him that I was the most real girl he had ever known, maybe he wouldn't feel so conflicted.

He shook his head, resolute, and stepped back.

"It's better that we just leave things as they are, okay?" Edward wanted to escape. His body was tense. He looked as if he might run at any moment, and I did not know why or how I could stop him.

"Don't leave like this."

He grimaced. "I just think... Bella, you don't know how hard this is for me not to kiss you right now. How much I want to do more."

"It's not hard at all. You want me. I want you. When did wanting the same things become so complicated?"

"That's what you don't understand. We can't be in a relationship. I can't be here with you right now."

"But, you emailed me like you wanted to. You touch me like you want to."

"I shouldn't have," he said, his smooth voice cracking. "I should not want to."

"What's stopping you?"

He blinked, took a deep breath, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm not getting into this now. Please, forget I sent anything. It was a mistake."

I groaned, almost slapping him. "All it took was one message! Instead, you led me to believe you were dead. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I was going to tell you tonight, okay? I never had the time last week. I shouldn't have sent the messages. Let's just leave it at that."

"What is it?" I prodded him. "Are you in the mafia? Or some sort of federal agent in witness protection? A member of Al Qaeda?"

He sniffed, his lips curling in a short smile.

"It's more complicated than that." His response was so quiet compared to mine. I realized I sounded like a wild banshee, as I tended to do when I became upset, and tried to calm down. I had to stop embarrassing myself like this, otherwise he would leave.

"It's more complicated than being a terrorist?" I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh. "What could possibly be more complicated than that? Oh no, you're Osama Bin Laden, aren't you?"

"It's not funny," he said. Nonetheless, a full smile broke into his features, and my heart skipped like Mary Poppins. Why I was so pleased that I had brought that smile to his face was beyond me, but it was such a beautiful smile.

I took a deep breath, trying to look into his eyes, but he refused me. His smile faded. I felt like I was talking at a dam again.

"So, it's none of those things? I bet it's not a life or death situation, at all. It's an..." I tried to remember the word he used that Saturday. "It's an 'obligation'? Is that it?"

"No, it's not an obligation. I mean," he groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Last week it was. It's why I'm here. I had a photo shoot with The New York Times after the matinee. Today was my interview and that was the obligation. But tonight, and tomorrow and for the rest of my life, it's not."

"You're telling me you don't want to see me for... for the rest of your life?"

It shouldn't have, but that hurt. It was like he punched my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

I took a deep breath. _He's just a boy. You shouldn't let him get to you like this._

He looked up at me, finally. His eyes moved rapidly left and right, searching for something in my face. Then, he walked towards me, touching my cheeks. The scent of chocolate was more intense on his fingers, his thumb stroking my cheek slowly. It washed over me at every sweep.

I looked into his eyes, the golden flecks returning, flaring his pupils.

"Bella," he whispered, holding my face with both of his hands, stroking both cheeks. He looked worried. It was the sweetest thing. "Please don't..."

I shook my head slowly, in the midst of a dizzying spell. Whatever he did not want me to do, I wouldn't do it.

"Bella, I can't hurt you," he murmured, his eyes roaming my cheeks, my hair, my lips, and eyes. "I can't see these…" he said, stroking my cheeks. "... be wet with tears. It'll be easier if I leave, now."

His scent was intoxicating and frustrating at the same time. I had never tasted this brand of chocolate and by the looks of it, I never would.

"I am not going to fall apart if you tell me the truth."

He grumbled a curse, releasing my face. He stood akimbo. We were separated by a mere foot, but it was too much. I had to fight with myself not to touch his face. It was an involuntary necessity now, to be near him. He rolled his hands up into fists.

"How could I believe that when you're so upset over this?" he asked, pointing at himself then me. "Over my life, when I'm trying to tell you to just leave it alone? You deserve better."

"There's a difference between being upset and crying over stupid shit." That's when it dawned on me. He wasn't worried about my feelings. I mean, he was, but not as much as he was struggling with his own.

Edward was not as off-putting as he should have been. It had to mean that this truth was not enough to keep us apart.

"You're afraid..." I said. Then, he walked past me, scoffing. I did not face him as I continued my strain of logic.

"You're afraid to be with me." I looked over my shoulder. "And you're afraid the truth won't be enough to keep us apart."

He did not answer immediately, and I did not understand why until I I turned around and walked up to him. He was staring at the posters of Cabaret all along the wall on the far end on the terminal.

Behind the thinning crowd, there were four gorgeous actresses in four black and white posters. A blond with bright red lips was laughing in the middle. She reminded me of the actress who played Ophelia. I think her name was Tanya. She looked so perfect with him on stage before she went ballistic in Act IV. But maybe that's what connected them: how committed they both were to their roles. They were both so passionate for their craft.

Could it be...

Edward sighed, lowering his head. He rubbed the back of his neck. When I had enough courage to guess what he was keeping from me, he uttered the truth.

I was right. He was afraid.

"You're dating Tan-"

"Bella, I'm engaged."

* * *

**A/N:**

***N/Q Line is one of the train lines in the subway system. If you look at the subway map, there are dozens of trains running along about a dozen different track lines. Times Square is a hub for about 4 of those track lines with 8 local and express trains in the station. The N/Q and R lines run from Brooklyn to Manhattan to Queens. Edward was on his way to Brooklyn.**

**_A/N: Bye :)_**


	10. Chapter 9 In a Bubble

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 9- In a Bubble**

I gasped, backing away from him, my heart hollowing.

_Engaged? That was what separated us? Tanya? They __will have__ perfect babies and live the perfect life, __won't __they?_ _They may have those babies now._

But it didn't matter.

He looked over his shoulder.

"So, now you know everything," he said, his broad back hunched over. He looked up at the poster again, the actress taunting me with her crimson red lips.

"I've seen you with her, with Tanya."

"Tanya?" he asked quietly.

"She's perfect, isn't she? She must be the perfect bride-to-be. But what you feel for her isn't even half of what you feel for me." I reached for his arm, his bicep hard within my grip. "It's all in your touch, in how stiff your muscles are right now, in your eyes. You want me... more than her. You've wanted me since you saw me last week."

When he lowered his head to look at my hand, he took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. Unable to breathe at all, I squeezed. The starched mint-green cotton was like paper in my hands. I wanted to rip it off.

My palms began to sweat, my entire body radiating heat as images of his naked body filled my thoughts. He reached up, stroking my fingers with his thumb, up and down, a thumb longer than my middle finger...

"Edward," I whispered, my fingers trembling. Sweat dripped between my breasts and between my thighs. And all of the resentment and confusion I had the last week was gone. Everything was crystal clear. This felt so good, so right.

"I am afraid," he whispered, his voice thick. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes darkened. His breath fanned my face, rich with cigarette smoke and more chocolate. Every breath I took was like breathing hot sex. I couldn't believe how good it smelled, how much I wanted to be enveloped in it.

"Don't be. I'm here. I want this."

He lifted my hand off of his bicep, intertwining our fingers. His palm was hot and rough against mine as he led me away from the crowd to a granite wall.

The florescent lights overhead had gone out and the down escalator was out of service. It was an eerie place to be with him. With all of the commotion surrounding us only feet away, it was like a manifestation of our personal dimension. We were in the bubble where no one else existed. Our bubble. And although it had been more majestic at The New School Theater than here, I felt like we were the only two people in the world.

"I couldn't sleep last week because of how torn I've been. I've wanted to see you, to speak to you, to touch you so badly, but I couldn't." With our clasped hands up near his shoulders, he leaned into my body, his heart beating hard against me.

"She's why you ignored me for a week?"

He looked at our hands. Then, he brought my right hand up to his lips, brushing my knuckles while speaking into them.

"I didn't ignore you. I was out of town. And I couldn't use my cell phone. I would have replied to your messages if I were here."

I grumbled, "Oh please. Where in the world can't you use a cell phone? Were you in a convent?"

"I told you it's complicated," he grimaced.

"It's not."

He let go of my hands, stroking my cheek. I shut my eyes, savoring it. I couldn't help it. His touch was like a stimulant leading me to paradise. One touch was a small dose of pure ecstasy. And the more we touched, the more doses I wanted.

"Bella." He sighed then let go of my face. The tingling sensation left was distracting this time, so I reached down to hold his hands again. "You look beautiful today," he whispered.

I shook my head, no, blushing and looking away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cheeks flush.

"I'm all sweaty."

"No, you're perfect."

When I dared to meet his gaze again, his eyes were like a river flowing through me. He wanted to course through my veins. He wanted to feel me, inside and out.

He didn't have to say another word. His absence over the last week was forgotten like a fleeting dream. In those moments, I did not need further explanation. I just needed Edward.

His rough thumb caressed my cheek, solid and warm and real. He captured the back of my head in his hands and embraced me.

"I have dreamed of you every night. Daydreams of these..." his fingers stroked my lips "...break into my thoughts," he said. His voice was so soft but managed to drown out the dull roar of the crowd. Every word fused with my mind, as if they were my thoughts. "And your sweet scent. Sometimes lilacs, sometimes vanilla, sometimes something more..."

I shut my eyes as he fingered my hair all the way down to the end at my waist.

"Like silk," he murmured, twisting it in his fingers. My heart skipped a beat when his thumb slid along my temple. His fingers shot tiny sparks into my skin at every sweep. Then, he let go. I opened my eyes, needing more immediately.

"I don't mean to overwhelm you. I'm intense... too intense sometimes." Edward frowned, his breath, sweet and sour mingling with my own.

"I can handle it," I said, shaking my head.

He held my hands in his, squeezing them. He studied my face for a moment, silent.

"Is this too intense?" He lowered his face to mine, his eyes mesmerizing, even halfway closed.

I stopped breathing, shutting my eyes, willing my heart to stop tripping on its own beats. The hairs on my cheeks stood on end, anxious to feel him. I ached for his scruffy jaw to press against mine, for his kiss to send shivers to the tips of my painful toes. Damn peep-toe shoes.

He kissed me... once. A simple peck on my forehead shot tiny sparks through my skin. He sighed when he pulled away.

I opened my eyes to watch him lower his lips to my nose. This kiss was wet, and I giggled as he wiped the tip of my nose with his thumb.

"Edward," I started. But he silenced me with the same thumb, pressed against me.

"I love the way your lips move when you speak." He tilted his head to the side, hesitating a second. Then, I reached up to his face, grasping his roughened jaw in my hands, a tender touch. I kissed him.

One kiss.

It lasted five seconds... or five days. His bottom lip caught in between mine was smooth and full and wet. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him harder. My body curved into him, my back arching as his arms locked down around my waist. I was in Edward Cullen's arms and never wanted to be anywhere else.

He groaned deeply, his hands cradling my head. Something moved around my lower abdomen, and my heart flipped when I felt it again. It was Edward, hardening, thickening and lengthening by the second. It was the first time a guy got this hard and big so quickly with me... or slowly. I didn't know. Time stopped when you kissed Edward Cullen.

I wanted more. I wanted to taste his tongue, to taste the coarse hairs on his chin that scratched my cheeks as we kissed. But the moment the tip of his met mine, all of the nerve endings in my tongue shattered.

My mouth became numb, and the air in my body whooshed out of me. I backed away, this tingling sensation overrunning my fingertips, my face, and the back of my head where his long fingers had once been.

I touched my lips the same moment he touched his. His eyes were opened wide in awe and wonder, the same emotions racing through my veins. Edward's eyes were also darker than I had ever seen them, turbulent with lust. His chest heaving, he stood stock-still in the same spot he had been where we kissed.

I breathed in the hot deadened air from the terminal, the tingling intensifying the further away I got from him. I stopped backing away, patting my lips and catching my breath. The tingling sensations ebbed.

"What was that?" I asked when I was able to feel my tongue again. "What the fuck was that?"

"I don't know. I can't feel my lips right now," he said, his face flushed. He lowered his gaze, running his fingers through his hair.

"I've kissed guys before but they've never been that intense. I've done more, in fact..." _Okay, __Bella, you officially sound like a whore. Good going._

Edward's head shot up and our eyes locked. His forehead furrowed. Then, he turned away from me, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What is it? Oh no, you think I'm a slut now, don't you? I'm not. Really, I just..."

"It's not that. It's me," he answered quietly.

"What do you mean?"

He cursed, his voice echoing in our bubble. "I can't believe I've done this again," he muttered to himself.

"What's wrong?"

He took a step to the edge, just one step, to the edge of our bubble. My stomach churned. It was too much like how he was at the theater, leaving so abruptly. Watching him go for the second time was unbearable. He could not be a ghost of a memory again.

"Edward, don't leave."

He stopped.

"You don't get it, Bella. I can't do this, not to her." He shook his head, clenching his jaw.

_Oh, this was ridiculous. He had to do this to her. He had to leave. It would be wrong to stay with her. How could he not see this?_

"No, _you _don't get it! You're settling!"

"You don't know... anything. I can't drop her, Bella."

"You're right. I don't know anything about you. But I know that I am more connected to you than I have ever been with anyone in my entire life."

Something that looked like guilt flickered in his eyes, and he stepped back, pulling his hands out of mine.

"I have. I-I do."

"I don't believe that. You're not connected to Tanya like you are to me or else you wouldn't have kissed me that way."

"I am not 'connected' to Tanya. Fuck!" He formed air quotes when he said "connected" before running his hand through his hair again. "I'm not marrying Tanya. It's someone else."

"Who is it? Is this another one of Jessica's games? Did she put you up to this shit?"

"Never heard of the girl," he said calmly, his forehead furrowed. "And I don't play games." I realized that I was whining again like one of those annoying kids you saw at the supermarket and took a deep breath.

I crossed my arms. "Fine, stop playing games with me and let your fiancée go."

"I can't... Look, I'm sorry I led you on," he said. Looking down at his watch, he mumbled, "I have to be somewhere right now."

"So that's it. One epic kiss and it's, 'Bye, Bella. It was nice knowing you.'?"

"Yes. That's it," he said, facing the thickening crowd.

"Edward, no!" I exclaimed. I grabbed his arm, turning him around to face me.

"We can't do this. I belong to someone else. And," he paused, his eyes searching mine. "I thought you did, too."

I scoffed. What was he talking about now? Ever since Friday night, I don't think I belonged to myself. It was all Edward, all the time.

He continued. "I saw you Friday... with him. The guy who looked like he had been stealing steroids from Barry Bonds."

"Who the fuck is Barry Bonds?"

"Barry Bonds?" He looked at me as if I grew boils on my face. "The baseball player?"

I rolled my eyes. _Oh jeez, baseball? Charlie would love him. _I took a deep breath, trying to absorb this ridiculous notion.

"Okay, so, wait a minute. You think I'm with Jacob?"

"You don't have to lie about it. He was why you didn't wait for me after the show."

I covered my face, frustrated, anxious, and trying to hold in my laughter. How could he be so off base about me? He answered thoughts I didn't even have last week. We didn't have to speak to feel the same exact emotions less than ten minutes ago. Now, nothing was right. I thought he was with Tanya. He thought I was with Jacob. Maybe he was right to leave. The connection wasn't real.

But that kiss...

"Jacob's just a friend. He's not even single. He's got a girlfriend."

"Could've fooled me." His ears flared to a bright pink, and he pressed his lips together.

"Edward, I left because he was ill. He needed my help." The more I spoke, though, the pinker he became.

_Oh __wow__! Was he jealous? So, he never wanted to see me again__but he was jealous._

"Look at you. You're jealous!"

He shook his head, crossing his arms as if trying to hold it in.

"I'm not. I'm sorry your friend was ill," he said, looking down at the floor.

"I'm sure you are," I said, rolling my eyes. "You can't look me in the eye and say that, can you? You can't look me in the eye to say anything!"

He met my gaze, defiant. Typical guy.

"Bella, I'm not jealous. And even if I was, it doesn't change anything. I love my fiancée. I can't leave her for..." He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to finish.

"You can say it. You can't leave her for me. It's fine. You see? I'm not crying. You should've told me that last week instead of begging to see me. You should have never kissed me, Edward!"

He sucked his teeth like a little kid. "I have to go."

"Fine! Leave!"

He stopped for a second, giving me a pitying stare.

"I'm... sorry."

He walked off, bursting the bubble, mixing into the crowd of strangers, becoming one of them. Then again, he was always a stranger. I never knew him, not really. I knew his Facebook profile, not him.

"Punk," I muttered, my body sore. I leaned against the grungy wall, feeling like I had been physically shocked. "Beautiful, unbelievably sexy, brilliant punk."

My body hummed from his absence, the strange tingles completely taking over me. I had to lean against the wall from how intense they became. I had never been on drugs before. I was not that rebellious teen who got high on meth and partied all the time. But I imagined this would be what withdrawals felt like.

Slumped against the wall, I struggled to hold my scream in. I stood up to fate and still lost. I didn't know what to do this time. My lips were still tender and sensitive to the touch. The tip of my tongue was numb. I had to kiss him again. That could not have been the only time I would taste his unique flavor.

There was no way I found him again, in a city of millions of people, and lost him in a little over a week all because of some girl he didn't really love. Whoever she was, there was no way he loved her. Every second he looked at me, his eyes betrayed him.

I pulled my shoes off, gross all over, and yearned for him beyond the sense of normalcy. I was inside of him, just like he was inside of me. We knew so little about each other, but I couldn't deny my feelings. I was under his spell from the first picture. And although I thought he was foolish to settle, a part of me was glad he refused me. It meant he wasn't the spoiled arrogant douche that I thought he might be when we first met. Actually, he seemed to have more integrity in him than a lot of other people I knew. A lot more than I had since I was trying my damnedest to break them up.

"Fuck me. Fuck. Me." And that what was so fucked about this. He may never come around. He may stay with her forever. I could not spend the summer aching for a man who would never want me. I had to put this shit behind me.

Thinking about moving on was only half the battle, though. Actually forgetting about Edward would be another battle entirely.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye****:)**


	11. Chapter 10 Tomorrow

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 10- Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow**

**May 22, 2010**

**Jacob Black**

Join me on twitter! JacobBlack and visit my website which launches in June.

22 minutes ago · Unlike · Comment

You and 8 people like this.

**Bella Swan**

Jake! Of course I'll follow you! You're starting a website? That's so cool! Ack! This is so exciting!

21 minutes ago · 1 person

**Jacob Black**

I can't believe it, either. Leah did an amazing job on the site. Did you see it, yet?

20 minutes ago · Like

**Bella Swan**

Wow, you have a flash intro and everything. Sexy man on the acoustic guitar. :p

18 minutes ago · Like

**Jacob Black**

I had a photo shoot last week. Sony really likes me. They think I'll be bigger than Bruno Mars.

10 minutes ago · You and 3 people

**Leah Clearwater Black**

Who's Bruno Mars? ;)

9 minutes ago · Like · 5 people

**64-Pack A.K.A. Paul**

LOL Leah!

8 minutes ago · Like

**Rachel Black**

Bruno Mars ain't got NOTHIN on Jacob Black!

8 minutes ago · You and 2 people

**Quil Ateara**

Leah and Rachel FTW! Bella how are you? How's New York City?

7 minutes ago · Like

**Bella Swan**

Rachel FTW. Hey Quil, it's HOT. How's Forks?

5 minutes ago · Like

**Leah Clearwater Black**

Hotter, cause Jacob Black is here!

5 minutes ago · Like · 5 people

**Rachel Black**

Well, now you're just making me uncomfortable LOL.

4 minutes ago · You like this.

Leah Clearwater Black? Leah BLACK? I almost called Jake when I saw that shit. I was afraid they ran off to Vegas. But Jacob would not have kept that from me. He was not the type to keep secrets. He was an open book, especially to me.

No, Leah was being Leah. Bitch.

It had been months since I had heard from Rachel, Jacob's sister, and Quil, who had been Jacob's best friend since they were little. Along with Billy, they must have been so ecstatic for Jacob's record deal and upcoming tour.

Paul and Leah I could do without, obviously. They could both go to hell. Cheating, no-good liars. Jacob thought it was pettiness and immaturity, but I could not tolerate infidelity, ever.

I checked my Facebook messages, next. There were a couple new ones.

One was from Alice about her final grade.

**Between You and Brandon Inc.**

_I aced it! I got an A! I can't thank you enough, Bella! That tablet wasn't nearly enough._

Alice had handed in her paper sort of in awe of herself. After two weeks, I got her to understand Hamlet better than Evans could ever. She was perfectly capable of understanding the text; she just wasn't into it.

After Evans had wished us a good, productive summer yesterday, Alice walked up to my desk.

"Bella, I just wanted to thank you again," she said, placing a lavender-colored gift bag on my desk. She grinned at me, crossing her arms, about to burst.

"What is this Alice? You didn't have to give me anything." I pulled the heavy bag closer, pushing the filler paper to the side.

"I think it'll come in handy for your first day at The New Yorker."

At the mention of The New Yorker, I remembered the phone call from Kate Tuesday morning. They had not only accepted me into the internship program, she said it was a "no brainer." A part of me thought it was because Alice happened to put in a good word for me, but another hoped it was all my doing.

I glanced over at Jessica's desk, feeling damn good that she wouldn't be torturing me for three entire months. Finally, I would be free of her. Standing at Evans's desk in a heated discussion, I thought I heard the word "fail," fly out of her mouth.

"Come on Bella. Open it!" Alice said, pulling out the orange paper.

It was a tablet, a Motorola Xoom. I didn't think this was out on the market yet, but Alice did have connections.

"This is too much..."

"Bella, please. It's more for you than for me. You will need to learn how to use this before Monday, or else you're screwed. My mom lives on this machine. And if you're her intern, you have to know it too."

"So this isn't just for the apps?"

Alice laughed, shaking her head. "It's for your survival. Esme uses this for everything, from reading manuscripts to scheduling meetings with my shrink." She patted my hand. "When she sees you with this, she might even ignore her 'three-strike' rule."

"It's a tablet, Alice. It can't impress her that much."

"I've loaded it up with everything you need to know about the company. It's not any old tablet."

I stared at it, wondering how I happened to be so lucky. Alice was my ticket to being an editor. Jacob would owe me that million dollars, for sure.

It was such a pragmatic gift from someone I assumed was a wild and crazy girl. Alice showed me over the last couple weeks that she wasn't as wild and crazy as everyone believe.

Event planning was a "full-time job that reaped many more rewards than learning Shakespeare's iambic pentameter." She made $100,000 on last year's party alone, after paying for the band, hotel room and other expenses.

I asked her if Ms. Evanson knew about her "hobby," and Alice said she never cared to ask. "Esme" wanted results: a diploma from her alma mater. How Alice got it did not concern her.

Alice spoke about "Esme" in the way I spoke about Charlie: tempered irritation with borderline disgust. We tolerated them because they were family. Although Charlie was a pain in the ass for a completely different reason.

"This is really unbelievable and completely unexpected."

"Well, you know me. Expect the unexpected."

Truer words couldn't have come out of her mouth. I never knew what to expect from her.

Sitting home a day later, I was getting familiar with the Xoom, finding it as easy to use as my smartphone. I was about to reply to her message to congratulate her for acing her paper, when I got a notification that Jacob replied to Rachel's comment:

**Jacob Black**

Thanks everybody. I don't think I'll be that popular but I hope Leah and me can make Rach uncomfortable more often. :p

2 seconds ago · Like

I shook my head, feeling so sorry that Rachel had to endure them. Yuck.

I looked up at the second new message. There was a reminder for her party tonight, which I was not interested in going to at all tonight, so I checked "No." Yeah, yeah, I was a loser. I never took chances, yada, yada, yada.

The last time I took a chance on something, it was on Edward, and I fell flat on my face. And that was supposed to be a sure thing. I had never felt the way about a guy like I did about him. And the feeling was mutual. Helen Keller could tell. Going to a party with my classmates, people I could not stand, was not a chance I was willing to take.

After deleting the invite, my eyes fell on a conversation I should have deleted weeks ago.

I sighed, remembering his words to me that Monday morning.

_"It doesn't matter. I love my fiancée. I can't leave her for..."_

I finished his line of thought. He was going to say he couldn't leave her for me. And he couldn't tell me because he thought I was some weak little girl who would have a nervous breakdown. His need to protect me from what was "complicated" was actually his own fear playing out in the most unmerciful way. It was bullshit was what it was. If the situation were reversed, I would be with him in a heartbeat.

Then I thought, if the situation were reversed...

If the situation were reversed, I would be like "Leah Clearwater Black."

I was becoming a home-wrecker, and for what? A guy? Okay, okay, Edward Cullen who turned my nervous system into toast. I couldn't even see a bar of chocolate without my Cullen senses tingling. Still, it was not OK. Leah should not have let her emotions get the better of her and neither should I. What the fuck was going on with me?

Why would I want to be with someone if I was becoming this compulsive stalker, anyway? Edward said he was out of town the week I became single white psycho, which was why he never replied to any of my messages. When he returned, he must've thought he was a lunatic for ever wanting me. No wonder he kept running away.

Even though he said had dreams about me...

Then kissed me...

We were a couple of psychos, then. I hoped when he said he was engaged, it wasn't to a chainsaw. Damn, that would be kind of hot, though. Like Christian Bale was in _American Psycho_, his naked body dripping in blood, the muscles rippling, bloodlust in his eyes, as he ran after that fugly blond prostitute...

Nice. Great. Not only was I developing OCD tendencies, fictional serial killers turned me on.

Edward Cullen, what are you doing to me?

I deleted the messages.

Around two, I walked down to the bodega to pick up the Saturday edition of the New York Times. The Arts section last weekend and every issue since were sorely lacking what Edward had briefly mentioned at the Times Square train station: his interview and photo. I tucked the thick paper under my arm, running back to my apartment, hoping this one would be it.

Seated on the couch, throwing the Sports section on the floor, the Arts section was in my sights when my phone rang. Whoever it was better have good news for me to keep me from this interview.

I bobbed my head to the beat, enjoying the new ringtone. It wasn't "Single Ladies" anymore. I changed it a few days ago to a song Jake had written back in high school. It was called "Tremble." A wicked beat and an undulating bass line purred under Jake's powerful and raw vocals. He sounded like a soul singer in this, like Sam Cooke. I missed it. Soul wasn't a genre he did at all anymore, not since Leah bought him The Beatles Anthology as his graduation gift.

I wondered what his new CD would sound like when I hit, "Accept."

"Hi, Mom."

"Baby, how are you? How were exams? Did you get the internship?"

I chuckled, her faux British accent pure humor._ Three years in London does not a natural-born Brit make._

"Mom, do you go to bed with an audio book of Colin Firth reading _Jane Austin _every night?" I laughed. She joined in, but cleared her throat prematurely.

"Cute. You speak to your father like that?"

I cut my laughter short, memories of my dad frowning coming to mind.

"I don't talk to Dad, period. He sends me coupons for Home Depot. That's the extent of our relationship," I said, scanning the front page of the section. Paul Taylor Dance Company and Don Giovanni at the Met... "Anyway, yes I got it!"

She cheered. We cheered. We were merry.

"And finals were good. I'll get my grades next week. How are you? How's your boss?"

"Ex-boss..."

"Mom! What happened?"

She sighed, "I'm just not cut out for office work, I guess." I could see her shrugging and shaking her bright Kool-Aid-red bangs out of her eyes now. It was inspired by Betsey Johnson, her favorite designer. And like Betsey, mom thought outside of the box to outer space. She was the most creative person I knew.

"Mom, I thought you liked your boss? And the hours and pay were fair?"

"Felix was fine. I just couldn't take another day of sitting behind a desk entering bills, Bella. All these positions are like Wes Craven films, they make me want to scream."

"So, how are you going to eat tomorrow?"

"Bella!"

"Mom, come on! You need to work. You can't live on your art."

"Bella-"

"You're in another country all alone, what do you-"

"I am not alone. I have Phil with me."

_Oh, her "James Bond."_ I rolled my eyes.

"Mom-"

"Sweetie, we've been together since last year, you know that. He's not just any old bloke. He might be the one," she said, breathlessly.

"You are such a hopeless romantic."

"And you're sounding more and more like your father."

"I do not! Take that back right now!" I could not believe she said that. I was nothing like Dad.

"You do. But it's only because you've never been in love. When you feel it, you'll understand."

I more than understood, didn't I? How was stalking Edward any better than what my mom was doing?

Mom and I discussed how Phil wanted her to move in with him sometime over the next few weeks, and I stopped trying to dissuade her. Besides, Phil seemed like a nice enough guy whenever I spoke to him on the phone. And it was a good thing that he tried to take care of her in her time of need. Dad could give two shits about her when she was struggling a few years back. If I were ever in her situation, he wouldn't support me either, his own daughter. He sure as hell didn't support my ambitions to be a writer.

_"Bella, you won't succeed as a writer. You're nowhere nearly good at it" or "Bella, why are you going to New York? You think you'll be rich and famous there? You were born in Forks, and you'll die in Forks."_

Mom started making excuses about how he wasn't the type to make calls, like she usually did, when I cut her off.

"Mom, really. This isn't something I want to discuss right now. Dad's never gonna change. And I refuse to speak to him."

"Bella..." she nagged. It wasn't a tone I had heard from her since the night I begged her to take me with her. She didn't know where she was going seven years ago but it didn't matter. She was my family. Dad was a sperm donor. But Mom thought stability was more important for me than anything, which led to her uncharacteristic nagging.

"You like him even less than I do. Why are you pushing this?"

"Because he's your father, not mine. You're the one who'll have to pay for his nursing home fees, not me."

"Ugh, I'm done talking about this. I am not changing my mind. Besides, I had something to ask you."

"Yes?'

"Can I sublet the apartment? I love living here rent-free but..."

"...but you can't handle the bugs. I know. You may sublet it, but be careful. And where will you move to? Rent-controlled flats of that size are hard to come by in New York City."

"But the monstercockroaches aren't."

"The what?" My mom laughed, and I blushed.

"Um, nothing. Ummm, I guess I should go and start looking for places... and people."

"Good luck. It took me six months to find that shithole. I'll talk to you Monday to ask about how your first day went."

"Okay. Bye, mom."

I sat on the couch after the call, the words on the front page of the newspaper as foreign as Aramaic. If I believed in God, I would pray for the weekend to fly by. I wanted to blink to see my digital clock read 5:30 on Monday morning. I fucking hated the weekends after school was over. It was when I started to mull over Charlie the most.

I wanted to strangle him more than any of my other tormentors. First him, then Jessica, now Edward. I'd be famous, alright. I would be the Black Swan of Forks. Oy.

I was about to flip to the next page of the paper when I found Edward's name. Finally, it was here! Seemed like I was fluent in Aramaic: The Edward Cullen.

The article was called, "Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow" by Angela Webber, and it was about up and coming stage actors in New York. There was only a paragraph from that article on the front page. The rest was on page 5.

I flipped over to that page, remembering him saying his obligation was a photoshoot almost a month ago. Page 5 was a full-page photo of him. He looked like death himself.

In a black tee shirt and black jeans, he had chalk-white make-up on his face, his eyes black from cornea to pupil. He held a white skull in his hands like Hamlet in Act II, gazing at it pensively, his head tilted to the side, a hand on his hip. His shock of red hair atop his head was the only spot of color on the page. I doubt I would have recognized him without it.

He was death, staring death in the face.

My stomach churned much like it did when he was on stage all those weeks ago, about to fall from the tip of Laertes's poisoned sword. Whenever he stared death in the face, I couldn't stand it. It was the first time I could not stomach the sight of him and the first time he didn't hypnotize me.

Above Webber's name, there was a tiny photo of someone very familiar. I could not put my finger on it at first, but then it hit me. It was the Amazon sitting in the row ahead of mine, giving me the stank eye throughout the first couple acts. Lucky bitch got to interview him. I bet she tried to impress him with this photo spread. He was the only 'star' to get a photo. The others were faceless names in black and white.

Her article was very professional, which surprised me. Webber didn't go into Edward's personal life at all. She asked about how he got into acting, what he had done in the past, and what he had coming up. It was a lot of what I knew except for a couple things.

His mother used to be an actress. He left it at that and went on to the next question about Lee Strasberg and method acting. The second thing I didn't know gave me insight into his ideas about stage acting. I didn't know how I could fall any deeper but after reading this, I did. I might have fallen in love with him.

_The corners of his green eyes crinkled when I asked him about inspiration, and why he wanted to pursue a career in stage acting when Broadway was in its darkest age._

"_I guess you could say the same about journalism. It's a dying genre. There might not be a New York Times as we know it in five years. But things evolve."_

_Mr. Cullen then grew somber. _

"_People want new things all of the time. People love film now like they love a Big Mac. It is a process that will evolve into something we have yet to see. Entertainment may become an experience that we will create and share only in our minds. But as people remain people, we will always crave the live performance. We will crave its visceral nature, it's dangerous connection to the unexpected, to a Truth that you can never find in any other genre."_

"_Lately, people have asked me why I don't follow Brando's footsteps and venture into film. I think it's like asking an obstetrician to perform liposuction. It's a genre I haven't any interest in. And I wouldn't want to follow Brando when I could be better."_

_Edward Cullen will next host a week-long workshop series on "Shakespeare: from Olivier to Tennant" beginning May 22nd at 8:00 p.m. at The New School. He looks forward to auditioning this summer for Off Broadway plays and musicals."_

Webber's next interview was with an actress producing a one-woman show about women in the Taliban, to which I quickly lost interest.

Edward's mother used to act? Where was she, now? Did she become some lame infomercial spokesperson like Suzanne Somers? Were they now estranged? Was she even alive?

And he never wanted to be a screen actor. I never thought I would meet anyone these days who didn't crave fame. Even Jacob, someone who loved and lived for his music, wanted his 15 minutes. Even I wanted it. Writing a Pulitzer Prize-winning piece for The New Yorker one of my ultimate achievements in life. But Edward wasn't like us.

He was in it for art's sake, and it was beautiful. Since the first day I saw him in the NYU e-newsletter, I knew there was something special about him. It was more than just his arresting looks, or his bewitching eyes, or even his body-numbing kisses. Edward had a good pure soul.

He was what I wanted to strive for in my journalism. I was a journalist first, a writer second. I believed in the power of the truth, in the age when everyone around me was hidden behind agendas as fleeting as dust.

I didn't want to feel like I did. I still didn't know any more about him that any groupie would know. But based on my two brief meetings with him, his performances, and this article, my intuition told me that he was so much more than the "quintessence of dust" that surrounded me everyday in every person I knew, even Jacob. Edward was the paragon I had hoped to find in New York, at Tisch, in my professors' teachings. Unlike anyone else I had ever known, Edward unabashedly and fearlessly sought Truth, the very necessary Truth, as I did.

I could not let him go. I shouldn't be as hopeless as my mom, or as unethical as that bitch, Leah. I didn't want to be psycho and desperate anymore. Stalking his Facebook page day in and out had to end. But our union was as inevitable as death in Hamlet. Edward and I belonged together.

I just had to tell him. And even though I knew where he would be tonight, I couldn't wait. I had to tell him now.

I picked up the tablet and opened the browser to Facebook to send him a message, wishing I could find a phone number somewhere to hear his voice again.

I saw his last status update was a link to his article from the NY Times. It was five minutes ago.

Thankful he hadn't block me from viewing his page by now, I thought for a second about how I could ask him to meet me. Then, as I wrote a draft, I saw the next best thing: the chat function.

My fingers twitched at the sight of the number of friends currently online: 3. Could he be one of them?

_Fuck, Bells. This is not a proposal. You're just gonna talk to him._

I typed the chat box. He showed up right at the top, with his little status box green, meaning he was available.

"How are you? Hi. What's up? What's shakin'?" Ugh, I can't do this again. I needed to simply come out with the truth. I needed to tell him what I wanted and hoped he realized that he wanted the same. No more of this bullshit about his fiancée.

I tapped his avatar and the full chat box appeared like a blank canvas.

Bella: _Hi, it's Bella._

Five long, heart-wrenching seconds later...

Edward: _Hi._

Bella: _How are you?_

Edward: _Busy, a lot of things going on right now. You?_

Bella: _I just read your interview with The New York Times._

Edward: _Isn't it great?_

Bella: _Yeah, and what you said about fame was so inspiring. I wish more actors were like you. Doing it for the right reasons._

Edward: _Yeah. So are you coming to the workshop tonight? Did you need directions?_

Bella: _Um, I don't know. Isn't it too late to sign up?_

Edward: _Oh, you didn't sign up. Then, yeah, it is too late. But what do you need to talk about?_

I hesitated, my head suddenly as heavy as a ton of bricks. I tapped the tablet against my forehead. Christ. Here's the moment of truth. _I need to talk about how much I love you. I don't want to go another day without you, Edward._

Bella: _I'm thinking about you, about what happened between us a couple of weeks ago._

Edward: _Oh._

Bella: _I don't want to leave it at that. We can't. I want to see you._

Edward: I don't think that's wise...

I rubbed my face, my hands tingling as if he was just here.

Bella: _Meet me at Prospect Park later. Please?_

Edward: _I can't_

Bella: _I know you want to, Edward. _

Nothing for like two minutes. I had to scarf down a bar of Godiva chocolates to pass the time. I thought he logged off when I saw he was typing something.

Edward: _OK. 5:00 at the Grand Army Plaza entrance. What's your number? Just in case._

Bella: _718-555-9000 What's yours?_

But he logged off before I could get an answer.

***Tomorrow and Tomorrow***

I jogged up the steps from the Grand Army Plaza stop up to the park. It was a hazy spring afternoon, the budding leaves from the cherry blossom trees falling like snow. The sidewalks had mounds of pink and white blossoms on them. I felt like I was walking on heaven.

Edward was minutes away. My love. Yes, I loved him. I never knew what love was about until now.

I kicked some of the blossoms around when I heard my phone chime. It was a text message.

_**646-555-9825:**_ _I'm here. Where are you?_

_5:02 p.m._

Me: _A couple minutes away._

_5:02 p.m._

I hurried, my heart beat racing in my chest. He wanted to see me. He wanted to be with me. He was here because he knew he loved me, not his fiancée.

Arriving beneath the monument, I searched for the lava-red hair that should have been bobbing above everyone else's. I imagined him pacing near the park's entrance, his long lean body tense and restless, his hands in his pockets. Perhaps one hand in his pocket and the other smoking a cigarette? Or he might have been hunched over his IPhone sending another text?

I looked for any of those cues.

He wasn't here.

I turned around, looking behind me. There were only a couple of children with their parents, an older gentleman, and a teenage girl with her boyfriend kissing on a bench. A hot dog vendor sold a bottle of water to a blond.

I squinted through the trees and passed the park's entrance but didn't see anyone who looked anything like Edward.

I sent another text message.

_**Me:**__ Where are you? I'm here._

_5:04 p.m._

A moment later, I heard someone's cell phone chime to my left. I clutched my phone in both of my hands, the ring was so close. But when I looked up, it didn't come from Edward's pockets. It came from the blonde that had purchased the water.

I backed away, stumped. All of the hair on the surface of my skin stood on end. I felt like I had been dumped in a volcano, I got so hot.

I had never seen her before in my life. Who was she? Did Edward send her here? Did he change his mind and have one of his friends break the horrible news?

The short blond walked up to me, putting her IPhone back in her pocket. She wore this glittery blue makeup on her right cheek and her turquoise t-shirt had white paint splattered all over it. She reminded me of my mom, who always used to come home from her art studio covered in paint when I was younger. Her dark brown eyes intense, she rolled the bottle in her hands as she walked up to me, all five feet of her. At every roll of the bottle, sunshine glinted off of something on her finger. At a closer glance, I realized it was a diamond ring. It was on the ring finger of her right hand.

"Bella Swan?" she asked, her voice high and light in the humid air. She sounded like she was twelve.

It couldn't be who I thought it was.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"You don't recognize me? I thought you knew all about me."

"I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"Okay, then let me introduce myself. I'm Jane Newman. The future Mrs. Jane Cullen."

I felt like a spotlight had gone on. All of my flaws were revealed. All of the insanity from the last month came to light.

It was Edward's fiancée, living and breathing, bitter and betrayed right before my eyes.

"Oh, now you recognize me. Good," she said, laughing mirthlessly. "Because I want to make sure you remember this face when I tell you Edward is and always will be mine."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye :)**


	12. Chapter 11 On the Roof

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 11- On the Roof**

**May 22, 2010**

"Aw, poor Bella. So sad, your plan backfired."

Jane Newman- the "future" Jane Cullen- shook the water bottle at me, inching even closer to me.

Her nostrils flared like a bull's, her eyes darker than the night. She was so petite if I slapped her, I swore she would have blown away. It was a very windy day. But she looked like she could take me down, too. One punch would crack my jaw. I rubbed it, noticing how tight her right fist was at her side. The diamond on her ring was huge. It looked like it was 24 ct.

"I didn't know he was engaged until recently. I would have never pursued him if I did."

"You're 'pursuing' him now, aren't you?" she asked, forming air quotes... exactly like Edward. "Stalker!"

"I'm not. I won't. I'm sorry, okay?" I wanted to run away. I wanted to send her bouquets of flowers and cheesy cards to make it up to her. But there was nothing I could do to make it up to her, except to stop loving Edward. And I could not do that.

"You have a lot of nerve. You think you're any different from the dozens of other groupies Edward meets everyday? You think you're special because of a _connection_ you think you have with him? You need to get it through your thick skull that he will never want some girl who thinks he's perfect, like he's God."

I crossed my arms, the guilt waning. I was far from a groupie, dammit. And I was well aware of the fact that Edward was human. Obviously he was neither perfect nor God. He just happened to be a normal guy that was perfect in every way humanly possible. Completely different.

"I am not a groupie, and I do not live in some fantasy land. We feel something for each other that you wouldn't comprehend if it slapped you in the face."

"Please, bitch. _We_? Edward pities you, all of you. Usually, I let it slide. I trust him enough because our relationship is that strong. But you had a lot of nerve sending him messages like you had the right. You have no rights when it comes to Edward."

"My feelings are not one sided," I said, all the muscles in my body becoming more and more tense. "He feels exactly the same way."

She crossed her arms, tapping her foot on the ground. "You're delusional. Now you're gonna try to convince me that because he looked at you a certain way at one of his performances, that he fell in love with you? Pathetic!"

"Am I?" I pulled out my phone, quickly accessing my emails. I had deleted the thread on Facebook, but I didn't delete the emails. Edward even had his own folder.

"Here," I turned the phone around for her to see the message.

_From: "Facebook"_

_To: "Bella Swan"_

_Subject: Edward sent you a message from Facebook._

_I can't stop thinking about you._

She stared at my phone, incredulous. But her appall lasted a mere second. She blinked, set her jaw, then glared at me.

"Edward did not write that. He wouldn't."

"He did," I said, sliding my phone back into my pocket. Then, something hit me, something that I did not realize before she revealed her identity.

"He doesn't know you're here, does he?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" she replied too quickly.

"It means that if you had spoken to him, he wouldn't have let you come here to attack me like some sort of wild mutt. He would have been disgusted by your spying and would have told you the truth about what I meant to him. Edward isn't a liar."

Jane screwed up her face as if stricken by my words.

"Don't assume you know him. You know nothing."

"You're trying to deny it!" I said, her mere presence really irritating me at this point. "Bitch please!" I said, throwing her words back at her. "You're here threatening a _groupie_? I bet he's been different around you lately. Have you even been sleeping in the same bed? Did he- did he tell you he dreams about me, too? Have you heard him call my name? Did he call for 'Bella' last night?"

Fuming, her face reddened to puce. And in the moment I asked the question, she smacked me. It was so hard and unexpected, my head snapped back and I bit into my tongue. I held my left cheek, the taste of iron in my mouth.

"He will never love you." She poked my shoulder several times until it hurt. "You will never have him, bitch! Ever!" Her voice was as quiet as Prospect Park at 3 a.m. She had a deadly calm about her, like a ticking time bomb. I was afraid of reacting because it seemed like her blond hair was about to explode like fireworks from the top of her head.

That fear was fleeting.

At the last poke, I grabbed her finger, twisted her arm back and pushed her away. I was not about to let some shrew push me around, not when Edward was at stake. She stumbled backwards for a second before walking back up to me and shoving me backwards. Despite her tiny frame, the force of the blow nearly knocked the wind out of me.

I had to catch my breath, stunned. She saw this as an opportunity to get the upper-hand and shoved me again until I fell to the ground. The teen couple gawked and the children's father stood up.

"It's okay. I'm okay," I told him.

"I'm not usually like this," she said shaking her hair off her face. She took a deep breath. "I'm much more of a lady. But you pushed me over the edge, Bella. You're not going to ruin my plans for Edward."

"Plans? You have a bun in the oven? Are you planning on popping twins in a week?"

"Babies in this body? No, it has nothing to do with spawn. And even if it did, it will have nothing to do with you. Edward wants a future with me. You're not going to ruin it, Bella."

"It's too late," I said, wiping my hands on my thighs. The palms of my hands stung from falling on the concrete, but I was fine. I was right. Something happened over the last couple of weeks between them that rattled her. I probably knew better than she did.

"You've lost him," I told her. "And you know it. You wouldn't be here if I didn't matter. And when I tell him about what you've done, he will never forgive you."

"You! Are! Nothing!" she replied, punctuating ever word. "Less than nothing."

Those three little words reminded me of everything my father used to tell me throughout high school. I would never leave Forks. I would never be a good writer. But I showed that motherfucker what I was made of. I was a force to be reckoned with and if I wanted something, I went out and got it.

This bitch had nothin' on me.

She kicked my leg, walking over me when her phone rang, as if that would intimidate me. The ring was Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." I guess that made her a "lady" after all.

When I got up on my knees, wiping the back of my jeans off, she answered. I wanted so badly to snatch that phone out of her hand and bash her over the head with it. Fucking bitch. But I didn't tell her a thing. She would have the last word and kick for now. I had one guess who was on the other line, but I would be the one going home with Edward at the end of the night.

"Edward, how's Liam?" she asked, making her way back to the park. "He did? Aww, I'll be right in. Don't let him do anything else until I get there."

Shit!

"Edward's here? Jane! Answer me!"

She ignored me but the entire encounter made sense to me. She agreed on the park because she knew he would be here. She wanted the confrontation. She was so self-assured. Did she think I would run away? _Give me a fucking break!_

I stood up and jogged to catch up to her.

"He's painting your face now?" she squealed into the phone. "Aww, Edward, don't move. I'll be right there!"

I could not believe she was ignoring me. And I was wheezing like a cigar smoker. Damn, I was so out of shape.

"Okay, I'll see you in a bit. Bye." She hung up, turning around to face me and walking backwards.

"Oh, you're still here?"

"Why did you agree to meet me at here if you knew Edward would see me?"

"It was a good opportunity for me, for all of us."

"For what?"

"To see with your own eyes what he and I share. Now you can see first hand what you could be ruining."

"You have nothing left to ruin. It's time Edward moved on to someone else, someone who knows who he really is."

"And that's you? Groupie, you only know what you read in a newspaper article, what you've seen on his Facebook page. You would never be able to handle the real man behind that makeup on stage. You would run away the first chance you got."

OK, so she knew him longer than I did. OK, so I based my deep feelings for him on a couple of chance meetings. OK, so everything I knew about him was based on his Facebook page. I didn't know who his mother was. I didn't know his telephone number...

"We can play trivia on Edward Cullen all afternoon," I said, trying to play down my insecurities. "It doesn't mean you're who he wants at the end of the day."

"We'll see about that."

We arrived at the meadow, dogs running around catching frisbees and a couple of baseball games starting up. The wind made it hard for the dogs to catch the frisbees and several ball players looked up mournfully at the threatening dark clouds overhead. A thunderstorm was brewing.

In the middle of the meadow, Edward sat on a picnic blanket with a little boy of about 4 or 5 covered in blue paint, laughing merrily. A few other children sat around the two of them with painted faces, glitter, paintbrushes and stickers strewn over the blankets. The dozen or so children were all bald.

I stopped in my tracks, stunned. I felt like my problems were suddenly inconsequential. These kids looked terminally ill. And Jane and Edward were here to play with them.

Jane stopped at the edge of the meadow, glaring at me.

"Liam was diagnosed with a rare and fatal form of Cancer. This is probably the last time he'll have to play with us before he passes on. Don't ruin this day for him."

"I won't. I- I'll just leave. I'm sorry I took you away from them. That is where you should be right now."

"Well golly gee whiz, that might be the smartest thing you've said all day."

I sneered at her. "Whatever. Your engagement is over, anyway. It's only a matter of time."

"Go home, Bella."

When she said that, thunder rumbled around us and the younger children in the park begin to cry. I watched Edward get on his knees and collect the supplies, Liam helping him eagerly. Liam told him something, and Edward laughed wholeheartedly. He was so carefree and loose, I didn't know what to say. And I began to wonder if he was this content everyday. If he was like this with Jane everyday...

He and Liam began searching around for someone, hopefully someone at the other end of the park. But Liam's pink tiny finger pointed to an older woman with a yellow sundress and glasses.

She was standing a few feet to the right of us. As Edward followed Liam's finger, he found not only that woman but us.

Edward's face blanched and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Slowly, he stood up, wiping some of the paint off of his face. Liam tugged at his shirt, requesting something to which Edward bent down with a big smile and carried him in his arms.

"Leave. Now, Bella," Jane muttered, walking into the meadow. She waved at Edward and Liam. When she joined them, she rubbed the child's head.

They didn't speak from what I saw as they hurried to the rest of the group. The other children crowded around the woman in a hurry, another rumble of thunder mixing in with their cries.

Liam was calm in Edward's arms, surprisingly. He looked up into the sky in awe as if he had never seen it before. He pointed up, saying something to Edward. The smile on his lips faltered, and he hesitated. He answered Liam solemnly before letting him down on the ground again.

Liam hugged his leg. Jane bent down to hug him before he walked to the group of kids. As they departed, Edward and Jane turned to face each other, then Edward looked at me. I had never seen his eyes so conflicted, his jaw so tight. He looked like he was about to burst out of his skin and come running to me but couldn't.

Jane yanked his face down to hers, audibly yelling at him. I stood alone at the edge of the park, all the ball players and families with their pets scurrying for shelter.

I turned around to face the trees, their leaves whipping about, their branches slapping and pushing each other like Jane had slapped and pushed me. I wanted to stay. I wanted to tell him the truth about her when all she must've told him now were lies. I heard her ask if we slept together but couldn't hear his answer. As I walked on the path to the Grand Army Plaza exit, the wind carried over a second question.

"Do you love her?"

I stopped, hoping his response would reach me. But just like before, it was too quiet to hear.

It was no. It had to be, just to appease her. He wasn't going to be cruel to her.

Thunder crackled around us and people raced for the exit, dogs barking, adults cussing, infants wailing, cut through the air. I sped down the path along with them, escaping the park for another reason besides the rain. I really didn't mind thunderstorms in New York. They were much warmer than the ones in Forks.

I couldn't face Edward, not now. This situation was as complicated as he had warned me it would be last month. Now he was suffering because of me, both of them were. How could I throw away her feelings so easily? She was a human being, not the devil incarnate. Or Leah.

Huge drops splattered on the concrete before me as I exited the park, the warm drops wetting the top of my head and shoulders. In seconds, the fat raindrops turned into speeding bullets, pelting my face and arms painfully. I was soaked all the way through within a minute, my jeans sticky around my thighs. The train station was all the way at the end of the plaza, a drenching five minute walk before I reached shelter.

I looked up at the sky, letting the rain soak me, wishing it would cleanse me like a baptism. I wished it could wash away my thoughts and the past few weeks. The day he told me he was engaged, I should have moved on.

Lightning struck across the sky, the streets of Brooklyn suddenly bright white for a second. A boom of thunder scared me shitless, and I began to run for the train. I was across the street from the station when I heard someone call my name.

"Bella! Wait! Wait!"

I did not want to believe it. I did not want to feel the hope that I had felt for weeks now, coursing through my veins once again. To hear my name from his lips was painful through the next thunderclap. I shouldn't have felt anything for him. He was probably here to tell me it was over. Jane must have been close behind, all smug, pulling out a camera to capture my misery.

"Bella! Wait! Please."

I slowed right at the end of the sidewalk, catching my breath. I was so out of shape, my lungs were on fire. I couldn't turn around to face him. He shouldn't have been here. He should be with her, consoling her. _Oh my God, their plans__! _She said she had plans for him. Maybe she was talking about plans for those kids. I ruined everything for him.

"Look at me!" His deep voice cracked less than a foot behind me. He was barely out of breath. He grabbed my arms and turned me around, his large hands covering my biceps completely. He was alone. Neither Jane nor her camera followed him.

The fire in his palms heated my skin just like before. It was so intense, my fingers became numb. My body tensed up as his long fingers squeezed into my damp skin.

"We were wrong to do this," I told him. "I was wrong to pursue you. You don't have to break it down to me gently. I understand. You were-"

"No, Bella. She told me what she did. It was the last straw." His eyes glimmered, anxiety mixing with exultation. The rain washed away the paint, staining the collar of his white t-shirt. The wet cotton clung to his skin, lining his abs, one by one.

"Edward, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying it's over. I didn't want her. I want you. I want to be with you."

"But... it can't be. It doesn't make sense," I started, stunned. But as his hands rose up to my shoulders and neck, sparks tickling my skin, his words began to sink in. My nipples stretched and hardened when he stroked my bottom lip. Pulling me into his body. My stomach tightened. It took everything in me just to breathe because all I wanted to do was be closer to him. I didn't feel the rain anymore. The bubble formed around us. We needn't say another word.

My guilt, my worry, my thoughts fled my body as he cradled my head, and lifted me up off the ground for a kiss.

Our mouths melded into each other as if in a dance. Our lips moved slowly and sensually, like a rumba, the passion building until our tongues met. I panted for his, for the explosive contact. When I got a taste of it again, it did not disappoint. I moaned eagerly, his grunts deep and rich in response. The way our tongues teased, played, then fought for dominance defined a new dance. By the time we came up for air, my tongue was numb. All of the sparks flying in our mouths spread to my face as he continued kissing my cheek, then down my neck. Every peck was hot and wet, pulling my senses out of an abyss of pleasure and up to the threshold of pain.

"Edward, yes!" I moaned his name again, utterly taken over by him. He could drag me off of the sidewalk, rip all of my clothes off, and fuck me in the middle of the street.

When stopped sucking my neck to look into my eyes, I was looking at sex personified. His eyes expressed a lust so potent, I lost my breath.

He brushed his lips across my forehead for a moment. Then he pulled away, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I winced, my skin still tender from Jane's slap.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"It doesn't matter."

"She did this, didn't she?" Thunder rumbled to the east.

"Yes, but I understand why. I would do the same. I would fight for you, too."

"She had no right, Bella."

The streets lit up from the lightning, making everything bright white once again. I watched it in awe. It was everything that I felt inside of me. I felt connected to the electricity. I felt it course through me and into him in a nearly tangible way.

"Let's get out of the rain," Edward suggested, his deep voice was husky and quiet. But the thought of walking anywhere was impossible for me. My legs were like jello after those kisses.

"Okay, but... I don't think I can walk," I replied, blushing.

Without a word, he lifted me up by my ass, and we crossed the street to the station.

"You're embarrassing me." I buried my face into his damp shoulder, crossing my ankles around his back._ What if someone... what if Jane saw us?_ I looked over his shoulder the entire ride, nervous for a second that Jane would come after us. Another thunderclap ripped through the air as we descended the steps. It was so strange how she disappeared. What did Edward tell her?

The station was packed with families and their screaming toddlers. Holding my waist and gazing into my eyes, he let me down when we reached the turnstiles.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." My ovaries liquefied by his stare alone.

"Are you sure?"

He laughed, his eyes so bright.

"About you? Yes. Without a shadow of a doubt." He stroked my cheeks, kissing them.

We crossed the turnstiles together, my heart beating as fast as I wished my feet could run. I glanced over my shoulder again, still expecting Jane to pop up like a jack in the box.

"Who are you looking for?" Edward asked.

"I'm just worried... about what happened to Jane." We walked down to the subway platform. It was packed. Edward looked down at my hands, not answering.

"Edward?"

"Why does it matter? I'm here with you, not her."

"What did you tell her? Less than an hour ago, she was certain you would stay with her. She was gonna fight for you. She did today. Now she's gone."

"I just told her it's over."

"You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that?" As an actor, you would think he would be a better liar. But he could never look at me when it came to Jane.

"Bella, she's not coming after us. I made sure of that."

"How?"

"Don't worry about it. She means nothing to me." I released his hands, lifting his face up by his chin. There was some blue paint stuck in his scruff.

Scratching it off, I asked, "How could you say that? You were planning an entire life together."

He stepped back, crossing his arms, looking me up and down.

"It was becoming a life I didn't want anymore. She was on a different path. She was making plans for me that I didn't want to follow. Jane is no longer a threat, I promise."

"I don't know how I can believe that." The more I thought about Jane's behavior earlier, the less I felt like I belonged in Edward's world. The guilt crept back.

"At least there were plans. I don't even know you... not like she does. I'm just a groupie. Some groupie to have fun with then move on, I guess... Why else would you want me? Our connection is nothing in comparison."

"It's not," he said affirmatively. "This isn't about sex. My feelings for you run deeper, you know that."

"How could I? I've been the one chasing you, remember?"

"And I've been the one dreaming about you, remember?"

"Yeah, about fucking me," I muttered.

"I admit, I did the first few times..." he said, taking both of my hands in his and resting them on his chest. I scoffed, trying to free myself from his hands, but he held on.

"But recently, it's on another level. You're like a breath of fresh air in my life right now. You have no idea how much I need you in it. Whether we make love tonight or not, I never want to let you go again."

I breathed, trying to believe him because the alternative, quite frankly, was too bleak not to. But now that real life had seeped into our bubble, I could not look into Edward's eyes without seeing Jane's. She would not go away just like that. A girl like Jane doesn't just give up.

"She's not going to let you go this easily. Maybe you and I... maybe we should wait."

"For what? "

"I don't know. I don't know anything after today. Everything I assumed about you and Jane was wrong."

"No, it wasn't-"

"It was. I thought you were miserable. You were happy back there. You were building a good life with her."

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, I wasn't-"

"Maybe you should go."

"What?"

"I don't want you to be late for your workshop. You have to go get cleaned up, don't you?"

"There's a shower at the theater, but that's beside the point. You're all tense because of Jane. Let's just drop it, okay?" he asked.

"I can't. You just got over an engagement. You need some more time."

"No, we have been having problems for months now. I don't need more time. You don't think that I genuinely care for you?"

"I don't know," I said, averting my eyes this time.

"Listen," he said, taking my hands again and pulling them up around his neck. "Jane is nothing compared to you, Bella."

"Edward-" He silenced me with a finger on my lips.

"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could see my dreams. There isn't a night that passes by when I think about how lucky I was to have met you at all. Think about what we could be, Bella."

He looked down at me, digging into his jean pocket for something. When he pulled it out, I gasped. Between his long forefinger and thumb was Jane's engagement ring. Wow, he asked for it back. Wow.

"This was my mother's."

There was that word again "was." What happened to her? I asked him the same question, but he looked down at the ring and pocketed it.

"She came up earlier today. Liam was afraid heaven was up somewhere in the dark, threatening clouds." Edward sighed. "He wanted to stay with me on Earth, where he felt safe. But I promised him when he passed on, he would be fine. My mom would protect him like she protects me everyday."

"Oh no." I covered my mouth. It was what I had feared, but to hear it aloud was like watching a dog being skinned.

"It happened ten years ago. I'm fine." But he didn't look fine at all. It must have been a devastating loss.

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize, Bella. You had nothing to do with it."

I reached up to touch his cheek, but he grabbed it roughly, pushing it away. His eyes were penetrating to the point of violation.

"This ring was on Jane's finger for too long. One day I will give this to a much more deserving woman."

To hear him say that after Jane's badmouthing was the most assuring thing he could tell me, but I was far from special. I wasn't utter shit, but Ben Cheney made more sense as Edward's lover than I did.

Finally, about half an hour after we arrived, a downtown train rumbled into the station, taking us out of the moment. That was the train that would take me home. Watching the crowd of impatient passengers hurry into the train cars, I gazed at them, longing to be with them.

Edward held me to him, kissing my cheek, his hands at the small of my back. It was so hot in the station, my clothes sticky and gross on my skin. I was ready to take them off, to get home and be with him. As the last group of passengers jammed in, an announcement rang above us. "Thank you for riding the MTA. The time is now 6:30."

Edward shut his eyes, running his hands through his hair. "I can't believe it got so late."

"I should probably go." I said backing away, our fingers still intertwined. I let them go, continuing to the train. I looked over my shoulder at the packed cars. Immediately, the tingles in my body became overwhelming. I had to lean against a column, my legs were so weak.

"Catch the next train," he said, shaking his head. He shook his hands, extending his fingers and closing them into a fist a couple of times. I remembered after we kissed the first time, how he said his lips were just as numb as mine. Now, it seemed like he felt the tingling, too.

He tugged me toward me as the train doors closed and sped away. The sensations eased immediately. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, the pain easing in my legs.

"I can cancel," he said into my hair. "Do the workshop tomorrow. I won't be able to concentrate, anyway."

I laughed at that nervously, butterflies forming in my stomach. No one's ever done that for me before and now wasn't the time to start.

"Please don't. We can wait a few hours."

"No... come with me."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't answer him.

"Come," he said, tugging my hand. "Please."

There was a beep coming from the monitor that an uptown train was approaching the station. I squeezed his hands, the subsiding tingles in my arms silently making the decision for me.

"Okay. Okay, I'll come."

As we looked down the tunnel for the arriving train, I found myself in a position that I didn't think I had ever been in before. I related so easily to Maggie the Cat the five or so times I watched _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_ during my Tennessee Williams-athon a few weeks back. She had wanted so many things in her life. She had tried everything to get them, but the one thing, the one man she wanted the most, didn't want her. Brick pushed her off the tin roof everyday, but she climbed back each time.

Now, that part of my life was over. I had climbed up onto the roof for the last time. There was no one left to push me off. Edward was begging me to be with him today. I was on that roof to stay.

"I don't know how I'll keep my hands off of you," he said. He hugged me, so warm now, and I felt why he thought so in his pants. "I would make love to you in the train car if I could."

He kissed my temple again, his warm lips lingering there before kissing down to my ear again. His scruff brushed my hot cheeks like little bristles. Fuck, it felt good to feel a man against my body again. But I didn't want to lose it on the platform. His lips would be the end of me. When he leaned down to kiss me, I turned away.

"Kiss me," he said, his voice low and hungry. And everything in my body spiked to nuclear levels.

His eyes were a shade of lust and passion, teetering on sexual rapture. A whimper escaped my lips, as I reached up to his neck, his hair thick and soft between my fingers.

"If I kiss you again," I said, standing on the tips of my toes to whisper into his ear. "I don't think I'll be able to stop." When I lowered back down to the soles of my feet, he held my face in his hands. We nuzzled, my lips trembling because they ached so much for the kiss.

"I'm never gonna stop, Bella."

As the train doors opened to an empty car, Edward pulled me inside. We embraced. And as the doors closed, he leaned in for a fiery, limb-numbing kiss.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye :)**


	13. Chapter 12 What Dreams May Come

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 12- What Dreams May Come**

**May 22, 2010**

Edward's heart beat beneath my palms. Duh-duhn, duh-duhn, duh-duhn, like it was telling me how to pace myself. It was telling me to slow down in a steady rhythm when all I wanted to do was go faster. I wanted to see all of him. I wanted to witness his beauty in its entirety without missing one detail or one beat, but his heart was telling me to wait.

We were still on the train, making out against the emergency door. People might have seen us. I was being an utter whore, making out with a guy who was engaged less than an hour ago. _F__uck the shame. Fuck guilt._

Because of his workshop at The New School, I couldn't see all of Edward until later tonight and it might as well have been next year.

For the last fifteen minutes, we were wrapped in our own world. I did not know we were in the second car of the dimly-lit 3 train until we left Nevins Street. Edward held my hand to his chest. His t-shirt clung to my fingertips, still wet from the rain. He kissed the cheek Jane had slapped earlier. It was sore, but each kiss made it feel better. Pulling me into him for a kiss, his long fingers were tangled in my damp hair.

A passenger got on, took one look at us, and got off. Whether he or she was male or female, I couldn't tell. All I wanted was to make it to Clark Street. Then, we would have five minutes afterwards to ourselves until we arrived at the next station.

In an empty car, a lot can happen in five minutes.

At Hoyt Street, the next stop, he leaned in, nuzzling me. "I have had dreams of us together. I've wanted to do so many things to you, and it's taking everything in me not to do them."

"Like..."

He kissed me, a short peck, then spoke into my lips.

"For one, your ass is perfect."

The car doors opened and the conductor made his announcement. No new passengers joined us as Edward's fingers traveled down to my right butt cheek.

My face got hot, suddenly super-conscious of my rear for the first time in my life. Edward was an _ass-man_?

"It's okay..." I said.

"I promise, Bella. It's not just okay," he said, biting his top lip. He squeezed one buttock in his hand. "If I could bend you over right now, and tap that..."

The car doors closed, and the train roared ahead to Borough Hall. When he grabbed onto my other butt cheek, I moaned, anxious for the moment when our jeans wouldn't separate us. He kissed my temple, sighing.

"So do it," I said, whimpering. The rough palms of his hands ran along my ass, up and down. His eyes were raw, and the control was gone. They told me he wanted to do more than "bend me over and tap that." We couldn't, though; we would be approaching the next station in less than a minute.

"Turn around, Bella," he said, his voice rough. I did, slowly, my heartbeats pounding in my chest. His hands spanned my hips- his thumbs stroking my ass, and his long fingertips splayed across my upper thigh. The hair along the nape of my neck stood on end as his warm breaths tickled my skin. He pulled me flush against his cock, my stomach muscles clenched. He was so long, it went from the middle of my ass down to the back of my thigh.

He hissed, holding my hips still. His breaths quickened and matched mine, goosebumps popping up and down my spine.

"I've imagined us like this... so many times," he said, his voice a deep growl in my ear. He sucked my earlobe for a moment before I dropped my head back against his shoulder. "But my dreams were nothing compared to this."

Slowly, he began to grind against me. His fingers rose up to the hem of my t-shirt, then higher to my ribs. Arching my back, he nipped the base of my neck, and my nipples hardened.

"You taste..." he murmured into my neck, his cock sliding up and down my ass. When I felt his fingertips on my nipples, we started moaning so loudly I barely heard the announcement for the next station.

"Fuck!" I could not believe I was doing this on a train with this man. I was losing my mind, calling his name with abandon. He squeezed my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, twisting them until they hurt. "Edward, please!"

With a raspy breath, he released my nipples, grabbing my hip with his right hand and running his left down my back. My clit throbbed with a beat, accelerating when his grinding motions became thrusts. I did not know how much longer I could take of this foreplay. I needed to feel more of him and everything, from the goddamn shame to Edward's jeans, was torturous.

I pushed his hand off of my hip, whipping around to face him when the train came to a screeching halt.

We arrived at Clark Street, the last stop in Brooklyn. I fumbled with the button his jeans, about to kiss him when I heard:

"Fucking asshole!"

About a dozen new passengers hurried into our empty car. Chatting much too loudly about something I could not decipher, I scowled over Edward's shoulder at the teenagers. They broke the private dimension Edward and I had formed since we got on twenty minutes ago.

"I will kick them off this train if I have to," I grumbled, catching the eye of one of the girls. She had a bright pink t-shirt on that said "I'm a Belieber."

Edward shook his head, my clit pulsing from his intense gaze. He let go of my waist, to face them and said, "I'm gonna need you all to head over to the next car_, now._" His ears turned red and he squared his shoulders as he took a step toward them.

Every hair on my skin stood on end, and I felt pangs on my arms and legs. The tingles from before returned twofold, crawling along my limbs like millions of tiny crab's legs. He was too far away. I leaned back against the door, squinting at Edward.

"Forget them," I whispered.

Edward glanced back, his eyes the same electric shade of green as the light outside the car window. We were about to depart. He shook his hands, then he crossed his arms and faced them again.

"_Now__,_ ladies!"

The gaggle of teenagers stared at Edward- some gaping, some biting their lips, some glaring at me- before hurrying off of the train before the doors closed. His menacing demeanor surprised me... and turned me on like nothing else.

"Come here." I groaned, reaching out for him. There was so much_ I _wanted to do, but not enough time.

We had at least five minutes until we arrived in Manhattan.

As soon as the train pulled away from the station, he turned around, grabbing my arms and pulling them around his waist.

His eyes searched my face. "I can't feel my fingers and toes. Can you?" he asked as he cupped it with one hand.

I nodded. "Yes, but I feel weird." These strange sensations seemed to have intensified with time. Tonight, his kisses didn't ignite the sparks that I felt at Times Square three weeks ago. They were warm and sensual, like coming home after a long hard day at work. But my body's reactions to the mere foot separating us felt like someone set a torch to me.

What would we would do when we had to leave each other?

"It's starting to go away," I replied. "I don't feel like my fingers are about to fall off anymore." He smiled, bringing my fingers to his lips.

As he kissed them, the pangs subsided, and the hair on my forearms didn't stand on end. His kisses calmed me.

He sighed into my hands, the electricity in his eyes shifting to a tumultuous sea green. The gold around his pupils burned, pulling me back into him, into our dimension.

"Edward..."

"Have you ever fucked on a train?"

_My God, did this man just ask me if I had ever fucked on a train? _I shook my head, no, my legs weakening.

"Have you?" I hoped he would said no. I hoped we would both share the new experience together. Shit, he had to say no.

"No." Edward pulled me into his body, smacking my ass. It stung deliciously, especially because the denim was still wet. "But we should."

He slammed me against the emergency doors, both of us cussing upon impact. Lifting my legs up around his back, his cock hit my pussy. I gasped, holding onto his chest. His heartbeat was as steady as the second hand on a clock and a guide for me. It helped me keep my composure.

Then again, maybe it was time I lost a little composure...

His scruff scratched my skin as he sucked my earlobe again. He left a warm wet trail along my cheek as he kissed me down to the corner of my lips. He rubbed his forehead into mine, his eyes like the beginning of a dream. I wanted to stay lost in his eyes, sinking into the depths of a man I needed more than anything else in the world.

Stroking my swollen lips with his fingers, I smelled a hint of the rain we had escaped earlier and something new. It was Edward. His scent was no longer hidden beneath his cigarettes or enriched by chocolate. Instead, on his fingers, across his lips and on his tongue, swirled the intoxicating aroma of lust. With every breath, my pussy throbbed and my thoughts were relegated to images of him fucking me so hard we would crack the Plexiglas window behind us.

His eyes were so close to mine. They conveyed an unbridled passion that made my toes curl around his back. No man should look at a woman like that with clothing on.

Still, his heartbeat was slow and steady.

"I feel like my heart will burst. How do you manage to stay so..." I wanted to say "calm," but could not manage anything but a deep moan when he grabbed my ass. He thrust his hips up and pulled me down right onto his full, hard cock.

"Fuck!" We called out, breathless. I arched my back, squeezing his chest, finally feeling his heartbeat speed up. I leaned my head back against the door, bracing myself. Grinding my pussy against him, my thighs quivered. "Fuck! Don't stop!"

The train screeched along with my cries. Switching rails, it rocked us from left to right, the sudden movement intensifying his subsequent thrusts. I tore at his t-shirt, feeling the round hills of his abs against my palm for the first time. The rough hair running up the middle of his tummy was a sweet contrast to the tight and controlled muscles bordering it.

"Shit!" He kissed me hard, his tongue darting into my mouth, twisting around mine. He moved his hands to my hips guiding me forward and backward from the base of his cock to his head. He did it at such a quick pace, my jeans began to burn my inner thighs. Why the fuck were our clothes still on? Fuck!

I lifted his shirt higher, pulling away from the kiss to meet his eyes again. I wanted to see how fiery his chest hair was and the trail down the middle leading to his cock. I found his hair was a rich auburn over his chest. Brown freckles peppered his abs like they did on his forehead and forearms. I stroked a freckle on his lowest ab, and he shuddered. He pushed his forehead against mine so that the back of my head hit the Plexiglas. For a second, Edward and the train were blurry, but I quickly regained my focus when he released my left hip and I heard the zipper to my jeans unzip.

"Oh God." I moaned unbuttoning my jeans and standing up. The sound of the metal breaking free of the cotton brought a slow warm burn down and deep to my core. I kissed him from his cheek to his neck, sucking his salty skin. He let go of my other hip, and I grabbed onto his shoulders as he pushed my jeans down mid-thigh. I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as his lips brushed against my left ear.

"You must be so wet." He growled. "You smell so sweet. Bella..." I could have cum then, his teeth nibbling my neck. He grunted as he hoisted me up and I wrapped my legs around his hips. As soon as I could, I thrust my hips forward, bumping into his cock. My clit throbbed as quickly as his heartbeats had moments before.

"I want to taste..." he said, lifting his face to look at me. His eyes were a liquid sea-green and gold. His cheeks and neck were splotchy, his body heat and scent fueling me to jump over the edge. My thighs were numb around his back. Shit, were we really going to do this? In public? Against the door of a train?

He gulped, looking down at my panties- red and white polka dot. Then, he raised his heavy-lidded gaze to mine. He reached down, running his thumb along the band across the top. He leaned in to kissed me as he dipped his fingers inside.

Quicker than I could scream his name, he found the lips of my pussy. I had to break away from his kiss to breathe, to cry out. My clit was so sensitive that when he flicked his finger over my pussy lips, I began rocking against his finger as if I were riding it.

"So fucking wet..." he murmured. He quieted my cries with a kiss. But I had to pull away when his fingers spread my pussy lips open.

"Shit! Edward!"

He rubbed my clit once and every cell in my body spiked. When his fingers rose up my tummy to his lips, I looked at him hungrily as he shut his eyes and licked the tip of his finger. He groaned my name, dropping his forehead on my shoulder. I had never seen a guy have this reaction before, this bliss. What did I taste like...

I squeezed my thighs around his back to maintain my balance because the train sped up. Then, grabbing his palm with both of my hands, his green eyes popped open as I opened my mouth and sucked both of his fingers.

"Goddamn." His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he pulled his finger out of my mouth. He yanked my panties off of my ass, taking a deep breath of my scent. _Oh my. Edward Cullen loved my scent._

His middle finger traveled down the short hairs of my pussy before moving forward for my clit. He tapped it with one long thick finger a couple of times and all of the muscles in my legs turned into goo. My legs slid down to below his hips, and he had to grab my right leg to steady me. His slow strokes rendered me speechless. All of the muscles in my legs tensed when he finally quickened his pace. Then, his ring finger joined his middle finger.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I sucked in the cold air-conditioned air of the train through my teeth, legitimately out of my mind. He stroked my clit slowly in a circle, my hips following his motion. "Don't... stop. Don't ever stop!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, struggling to stay grounded. But as I buried my face into his neck, moaning his name over and over, I felt like I was flying. He rubbed faster, grunting in my ear, every one of my senses reaching pure ecstasy.

"Edward! Yes! Yes!" Heat spread from my tummy down to my core as I came hard onto his fingers. Thrusting into them, I could not stop cumming.

"Shit!" I whispered after the waves eventually died down. My face and my back were wet with sweat. I opened my eyes, slowly regaining my senses. I could feel Edward's soft kisses on my shoulder and his arms wrapped tight around me. I could hear his heavy breathing and see his nostrils flare inches away from my face.

I lifted my face from his neck to see that his eyes were closed, his blond lashes brushing against his cheeks. He shifted his grip to my hips, evening out his breath as if he were meditating. As he buried his face into my neck, I touched his soft chest hair, seeking his heartbeat. I groaned, discouraged. It was back to normal.

"Edward."

He opened his eyes, the sea green now a solid jade. He released my ass, standing up straight.

"How did you... How are you stopping?" I asked between breaths. My voice was husky from my screams. I stared at his crotch, his cock looked like the train's steel pole in his pants. I wanted to taste him.

"I have to." He cleared his throat. "Bella, watching you cum was better than... anything. It's enough for now. And we're about to approach the next station."

I shook my head, amazed. "Do you have tantric sex for sport or something?"

He stroked my ass once more before pulling my panties and jeans up. Despite how tightly I squeezed my thighs around his hips, he reached behind his back for my legs, pushing them down to the floor. He shook his head.

"Something like that," he murmured, staring at the empty chairs beside us. "But it's not a game."

"Could have fooled me." I pouted. He reached out to stroke my lower lip.

"We can't fuck here... not tonight," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He always seemed to do that whenever he got frustrated. I reached up to still the movement.

"Tell me one good reason why not."

"It isn't right." Who was I speaking to? A teenage girl in a John Hughes film? Fuck.

"That's it? Fuck what's right. I care about right now." I lowered my hands to the buttons of his jeans, yearning for his unique flavor, but he grabbed my hand.

"Edward!" I was doing that annoying thing with my voice where I sounded like a whiny brat. I sighed, trying to calm my nerves.

"This is going to sound like it's out of a bad romantic comedy starring that chick from _Knocked Up_, but I don't want to fuck you. I want to make love to you." His forefinger slid down my cheek, and he kissed the spot where his finger left off near my lips then he hugged me tight. His hard cock was the only reminder of what transpired. It didn't make sense how he could stop.

"Okay, okay... you've convinced me," I kissed his neck and the soft skin beneath his ear. But I hoped we would not wait long... as in no longer than an hour.

Suddenly, the train conductor hit the brakes, marking our entrance into Manhattan. I lost my balance, falling into his arms. My heart felt as heavy as an anvil. We had about twenty minutes left together. After that, he belonged to his students.

"You didn't answer my question," I said after he helped me regain my balance. "How did you stop? You're still so hard," I said, running my hands up and down his chest, stopping right above the belt loops of his jeans.

"I don't think you want to hear why..." he said, when the car doors opened at Wall Street. He wouldn't look me in the eye, which suddenly made it clear why he got so good at it. The last time he wouldn't look at me was when we were in Times Square. He didn't want to tell me he was engaged.

"Jane," I whispered. I lifted his face by his chin, but his eyes remained averted.

"Bella, we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"Look at me."

He rubbed the back of his neck again, tearing his chin away from my hands.

"Stop," I murmured, pulling it down again. He looked at me wistfully, giving me a curt smile. "What did she do to you?"

"Um, nothing. We had an agreement. I upheld it. That's all."

"What do you mean?"

"Bella, come on."

"Whatever it is, I would rather know, okay?"

"It's not a big deal. It's just really embarrassing."

Embarrassing? Only one thing that could embarrass a man...

I held his face to mine as we arrived at Fulton Street. I stroked his rough cheeks.

"It's okay. I think it's cute, actually, that you're a virgin. And you don't have to act like you're a hardcore porn star to-"

His eyes bulged, and he became as red as a cherry pie. He grabbed my hands, pulling them off of his face.

"I am not a virgin. Shit, I haven't been since the tenth grade. No. Jane was... the virgin. And she wanted to wait until we were married." He clenched his jaw, bowing his head.

_Wow._

"How long..."

"Three years."

"Damn."

"Yeah." He lifted his face, holding my hands. "So, now that you know, you must..."

"Want you even more, Edward," I said, kissing his cheek.

He shook his head, lowering his face for a soft peck, before quickly pulling away. He held me at arm's length, forcing a space between us when we got to Park Place.

"Bella-"

I grinned mischievously, reaching down to his crotch. But before I got to the goods, he grasped my hand to stop me.

"We have all night, baby, and all day tomorrow if you're up for it."

I nodded, kissing him all the way to our stop on 14th Street. I was more than up for it. My body was tuned up and ready to go for an entire week. A small part of me wondered if he would think poorly of me as we exited the train and climbed the stairs, heading for the crosstown bus. How could he take me seriously when we barely knew each other? How could we be serious?

But when we arrived on street level, the light of the sunset glinting off of his eyes, he was just as awestruck by me as I was by him. And the lust was so potent it radiated off of him. With every kiss, my wariness waned.

"I want every inch of you," he mumbled in my ear as we stood on the bus heading west. He stood behind me, his cock hot and stiff against my ass. "So perfect," he whispered, kissing my neck.

When we got off the bus, he held me to him, his hands folded over my ass. The air was still sticky from the thunderstorm that had gone east. It would be so hard to let go of him, even for that hour. He rubbed the back of his neck during our walk to the theater, frowning, most likely feeling the same way. But we couldn't talk about it. Just thinking about our separation sent shivers down my spine.

At a quarter to eight, we arrived at the entrance to The New School. He kissed my nose, then pressed his forehead against mine. His eyes were engrossing. I felt like I was drowning in a tidal wave.

"I want to lose everything I have into you," he whispered onto my lips. He kissed me. I could still taste myself.

Every word he expressed up until this moment was unfathomable to me. Could Edward Cullen really love me? He could tell me this all night, and I still would not believe him. But I wanted so badly to satisfy him. No, I needed to satiate him. I would show him how Forks girls did it without requisite "understandings." I would make sure that bitch's name never crossed his mind again. Then, maybe I could believe he loved me because so far, I was lost in him. I was lost in a dream.

* * *

**A/N**

**Phew.**

**Bye :)**


	14. Chapter 13 Pain

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. :)**

**I had a lot of smut rolling around in my mind the last few weeks. So, I wrote an outtake to let it all out. It's called Life and is on my profile page. Since I allude to it in the beginning of this chapter, you won't miss much if you don't read it. But it does have a sweet shower scene and you learn a little bit more about Edward and Jane.**

Now, onto Chapter 13.

* * *

**Chapter 13- Pain**

The anxiety settled in.

My shoulders slumped over, I shuffled into Edward's dressing room anticipating the worst.

It was a little after 8 p.m., and we were fresh out of our first shower together. But rather than bask in our euphoria, I dreaded the fact that we would no longer be together in a few minutes. It hung over me like a misty green cloud of envy. I hated the idea of sharing him with a bunch of strangers.

We had never been closer than we were moments ago. I gave him something that Jane never would, an ecstasy so pure and radiant that I could feel it in my bones. I had seen men cum in my hands before. The most memorable had been Sam last summer. But he never looked at me afterwards the way Edward had, like I had redefined him. In retrospect, I regret it. What we had done on the train was bad enough. I promised myself last Fall that I would not be in these sexually-driven relationships again, yet I just jerked off a man in his dressing room shower. This was a man who knew nothing about me.

If I wasn't careful, this could end up like it did with Sam, or worse.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Edward asked, holding the crown of my head. Walking around to face me, he bent his knees to stand level with me. He copied my pout with one of his own.

"Nothing. Um," I took a deep breath, circling the freckles on his right shoulder. "It's getting late. You should get ready for the workshop," I said with a weak smile.

"You should, too," he said quietly.

"What?" I shook my head, thinking of a million reasons why that wasn't a good idea.

"Come with me, Bella. I'd like to know your opinion of it." He said, before backing away to a closet behind him. The tingles spread like butterfly wings all over my body, and I grimaced. The way my body responded to the distance between us was beginning to irritate me. I could not suppress it or prevent it, and he was only five feet away.

"I- I don't want to intrude." I leaned against his wall with posters of Brando and Newman, drying my hair with a towel. All of Edward's towels emanated that fresh scent that I could not get enough of. I brought it up to my face, breathing it in deeply.

"You won't," he called from inside the closet. "Let's see if I could find something for you..."

I finished drying my hair with the towel, curious. What could he have for me? When I walked over to my discarded jeans and t-shirt, both dingy on the floor next to Edward's clothing, it was like the difference between a child's clothing and an adult's. His t-shirt would be a dress on me.

"You have something that would fit me?" I asked incredulous. Then, I thought about how other petite clothing would end up in his closet... "Ah, you have some of Jane's clothing?" Of course he would have her stuff in there. He must have a lot of her things in this dressing room.

Kneeling over to pick my clothes up, ready to wear them again if I had to, I watched Edward back away from the closet, a bewildered look on his face.

"Why would I have Jane's clothing in here? I am a lot of things but a cross-dresser is not one of them."

There was a brief moment of tense silence between us. Then, I laughed so hard, my stomach hurt.

He put his hands on his hips, suddenly as carefree and loose as he had been at Prospect Park with Liam. To see him smile did weird things to my insides, like spotting a rainbow in New York City.

"I'm sorry. I should have known better," I said, shaking my head. "I could wear this robe home," I offered, almost wishing I could. It was huge but perfect. It was Edward's.

"I won't have you walking around NYC in a robe, Bella. Give me a minute."

"OK."

He turned around, humming something that sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I put on my sneakers, lacing them up. Digging into my pockets for my phone, wallet, and keys, I picked up our clothes off the floor and searched for a bag to put them in. Near the posters was the worn white couch littered with dog-eared manuscripts all entitled, "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof." I fingered the edges of one of them, then continued on my search.

To my right and a few steps from the couch, there were bright vanity lights bordering a large mirror hanging above a cluttered dressing table. A few half empty Marlboro cartons neighbored some manila folders and more manuscripts lay at the edge of the table. A large box of chocolates lay open in the middle.

It was an unfamiliar brand: Jacques Torres. This must have been the brand of chocolate I couldn't find anywhere for the last month. This was the scent that I smelled on his fingers nearly every time I saw him before today.

There was a wooden chair in front of the table, a pair of black tights hanging over the back of it. I walked to the chair, tentative for a moment before touching the tights, Hamlet's tights. Then, I lifted the lid of the box of chocolates, seeking one more morsel. It was empty. A note card with a Jacques Torres golden symbol was the only thing inside.

When I picked it up, I turned it over to find a simple note written in pretty script on the back. It was simple, but painful.

_BE Hamlet. _

_-Jane_

The card stung my fingertips, and I quickly let go of it, dropping it on the seat of the chair.

All this time, the chocolate I smelled on his fingers were from her. Every time I craved him, from the chocolate cake I bought for Jake to the dozens of chocolate bars, I had craved a part of a man that wasn't him at all. It was Jane.

I peeked down over the tights to find that the card fell on a laptop on the seat.

I cringed, envisioning millions of photos of him and Jane in his hard drive. The photo on his desktop could be of them embracing during happier times. Jane was going to be everywhere, I had to face it. And I didn't know how long it would take to make him forget her, if that was even possible.

I touched my chest, my hand shaking, when I felt Edward's arms wrap around my waist. I swallowed a gasp as he pulled me into him. He kissed the skin beneath my right ear.

"Are you a fan of Jacques Torres?" he whispered. I reached up and stroked his cheek, trying to choke down a sob. All of the guilt and insecurities from my confrontation with Jane rushed back to me _again_.

Jane's taunts from the park replayed in my mind. She was so perfect. She knew so much about him that would take years for me to learn. When would I be able to give him thoughtful gifts like this?

I tried to get my hand to stop shaking so he would not see it, but I couldn't. I was supposed to be stronger than this. I told him that I wasn't that girl after our shower less than five minutes ago, yet here I was about to break down. He noticed my hand from the mirror, turning me around.

"It's not the chocolate... What's wrong? You're worse than before." He peered down at the table behind me. He made nothing of the chocolate box, looking into my eyes again, stroking my cheek.

I pressed my face against his chest, surprised there wasn't a hint of irritation in his eyes. How had he not run away for the hills? I was such a loser.

"Bella, say something," he whispered over my head. He kissed the top of it, hugging me tight.

"I feel like a fraud," I said, sniffling. "I don't know how we're gonna make this work."

"It's our first day together. Of course we are. Don't worry."

I groaned. He must have thought we were going too fast, and now he thought I was over-analyzing us. On top of all the desperate things I did two weeks ago and the whore-like behavior in the last hour, I might be capable of boiling a rabbit next...

Why was this man so into me? I did not get it.

"I just wish I knew how you really felt about me." I pushed his arms down from around my waist.

"You're asking me? I thought you were sure from day one. Why do you need validation, now?"

"I was careless and thoughtless. I- I don't want to be a rebound, OK? I want this to be real."

"And you think I don't want the same thing?" His eyebrows knit together. "How do you think that makes me feel, Bella?"

"I'm sorry," I started, unable to look him in the eye anymore. I needed some space. Great, now I was the punk. "I don't know that for sure. I just wish..." Walking around him for the couch, my hip hit the manila folders that were on his desk. They fell to the floor.

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

The sheets of paper in each folder swayed in the air left and right around my calves before falling at my feet. I moved to pick them up, but Edward stopped me, grabbing my arm.

"They're not important. Don't worry about them."

"No, it's OK. I'll get 'em." They must have been too important to just leave on the floor. I lay my things on top of Edward's laptop, picking the sheets up one by one.

The top sheet was a contract, its letterhead from The Public Theater, one of the most prestigious Off Off Broadway theaters in New York City. The other sheets beneath it were calendars and notes on a list of "potential producers" and "set designers." I peeked at the contract again but Edward snatched the sheets away from me.

"Really, not important," he said sternly. His eyes were steady and light, though. His lips curled in a short smile as he quickly stuffed the sheets into the folder. Nonetheless, I didn't believe him. They had to be important.

"I saw contracts for The Public Theater. That's a really big deal, isn't it?"

"Bella, they're just sheets of paper. It's nothing." Scratching his shoulder with the edge of the folder, he headed back to his closet, chucking it in there.

"Are you going to perform there this summer? Is this your first play outside of the New Theater?" I asked him, anyway.

He pulled his towel off, revealing his bare firm ass. I hitched a breath as he bent down for something on his closet floor, his thigh muscles flexing. This man had the best body in the motherfucking world.

"I'm not performing anywhere this summer," he said quietly, standing up. I shut my eyes, realigning my thoughts. "I'm focusing on the workshops." He spoke into his closet, and I couldn't see his face. So, I walked over to him, watching as he pulled on a pair of gray boxer briefs.

"If it's not this summer, when is it?"

"I don't know, alright? I don't know what's happening," he said curtly. He pulled on a pair of jeans, then rummaged through his closet for more stuff.

I crossed my arms, feeling slighted. I did not like being kept in the dark about anything. Why wouldn't he talk to me about this? But the moment I wondered, the moment I knew.

Jane.

I knew she was linked to the contracts because he could never look at me when she came up. Usually, his eyes became steel-like, and he avoided my eyes at all costs. He kind of went to the extreme this time. Ever since I began my line of questioning, he did more than avoid me. He retreated to his closet.

_"Line of questioning."_ I groaned. I needed to turn that "why girl" part of my brain off. I was _not _Katie Couric and he was not a guest on "60 Minutes." I demanded too much of him too early. I started out in obsessed-mode, embarrassing myself time and again. I would not be _that _kind of girl that was all in her man's business, insecure about every fucking thing.

Jane might have been involved with whatever was in that contract, but it would not tear us apart. Everything was fine. Everything would be even better as we got to know each other more and more.

We just needed a little bit more time.

"Found something!" He called out. He pulled on a black t-shirt over his head with his left hand. The fabric covered the freckles on his back that had entranced me for the last ten minutes. He backed out of the closet, slipping on his sneakers with a folded white button-down shirt clutched in his right hand.

"You would look so good in this," he said, biting his top lip. He shook his shirt open, showing it to me. It looked like it was big enough to reach just above my knees. I shook my head.

"Not as good as you would look in it." I opened the robe, shrugging it off my shoulders, then flinging it across the room. Watching his eyes glaze over as his stare centered at my breasts, I put the cotton shirt on slowly, the scent soothing like warm milk. My nipples hardened as he helped me roll up the extra long sleeves to my elbows, the tips of his fingers scratching my forearms. When he buttoned it up, our fingers meeting at the middle, we shared an intense gaze. My cheeks got hot, as flushed as his. He took my hands, intertwining our fingers.

"We were both wrong. You look better with it off," he said, raising my arms up around his neck. Our bodies against each other, I felt his arousal on my lower abdomen, and my clit began to throb.

OK, no, I was wrong. This had to be _exactly _like it was with Sam.

Just like the tingles, this unbridled lust was something I could not control. The way his eyes roamed my body, his hands traveling down to my ass, squeezing it, he couldn't control it, either. I pulled his face down to mine so that our foreheads touched.

"How are we gonna go back to our regular lives if all we want to do is make love?" I murmured, stroking his lips with my thumb.

Edward held my right hand in his, kissing my palm. His eyes were trained on my eyes as more of his wet kisses dotted my wrist. My lips were hot, trembling with each kiss. I opened them when he flicked his tongue over my lower lip. God, he was making me beg for it. Even when we kissed, they were soft pecks. His tongue teased me to the point where I panted for more. Pulling his face down to me, I kissed him hard. Finally, he plunged his sweet tongue in my mouth.

It was a kiss that said everything. There was no regular life after this. Whatever had been shall no longer be, and there was no part of me that mourned the change.

Enjoying how quickly his heart beat against my chest, I pulled away. Licking my bottom lip, I reveled in the taste of him. I needed to borrow his shirts more often.

"Come on," he said, grasping my hand. His eyes were the color of sin. "Let's get this over with," Edward whispered against my lips.

Suddenly, my cell phone rang, Jacob's soulful vocals filling the room. My heart pounded as I let go of Edward's hand. I walked over to the dressing table, picking up my phone. The ringtone shouldn't have been embarrassing, but it was. I didn't want Edward knowing about that part of my life, not yet.

"Sorry," I smiled apologetically. It was the first time since the gaggle of girls on the train that something had burst our bubble.

I checked the screen on my phone and saw it was Alice. She must have been calling about her party. I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, what's up?"

Through the din of hip-hop and a cacophony of conversation, she replied. "Where are you? Get over here, Bella!" She yelled into the phone so loud Edward heard her. He grinned, grabbing some books beneath all of the manuscripts on his couch.

"I'm kinda in the middle of something."

"Unless you're about to have sex with a Nordic god, get out of it!"

Edward chuckled. Meanwhile, I felt like crawling under the dressing table and dying. And I was embarrassed about Jake?

"Alice, I'm sorry but-"

"Don't be such a wet blanket, Bella. Come."

Edward walked up to me, kissing my cheek. "You're wetter than a wet blanket right now, aren't you?" he whispered in my ear.

I blushed as his finger traced my jawline. Now, he was being the naughty one.

"I really can't go tonight," I said to Alice. Edward nuzzled my neck and kissed it. I stifled a moan. "I have plans."

"What's going on over there? Are you naked?"

"Alice! I'm hanging up," I said, pulling the phone away from my ear. Edward stopped kissing me, nodded, a wicked grin on his lips. He headed for the door, glancing up at the clock. His grin turned into a frown.

"It's really getting late, Bella."

"Wait! Wait!" Alice's voice came out scratchy from the receiver. "I have something important to tell you about mom!"

Whoa! What?

"OK, hold on," I told her. I covered the mouthpiece. "Sorry, I have to take this. It's important."

He walked up to me, again, wrapping his arms around my waist. He kissed my cheek, his scruff coarse and itchy.

"Hurry," he said, pushing my hair off of my shoulder. He kissed me softly on the lips, but much too quickly. Then, he backed away to the door of his dressing room.

It was the moment I had been dreading since we got off the train: our separation. But nothing could prepare me for what was coming.

The moment he opened the door, the tingles tickled my collarbone, then spread across my chest, making heart flutter. But that wasn't the worst of it.

When I brought the receiver back to my ear, I heard Alice continue, "So, mom wants you to read a few manuscripts on the first day. I emailed them to you. You should check them out before Monday." I watched Edward as he began to shake his hands as if he had spasms.

"Alice, I can handle a few manuscripts. That wasn't a reason to call me." I grimaced, a flash of heat washing over my skin. But it was gone within a breath. Edward crossed the threshold, then stopped. The blond hairs on his forearms stood on end like the quills of a porcupine. He took one more look at me, his eyes wet and shiny.

"See you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, he left. And I lost it.

"Shit!" I gasped, dropping the phone. Catching the tail end of Alice saying something about my assignment being more than just a few manuscripts, a scalding heat as hot as boiling water splashed across my skin.

I wished the tingles back.

"Bella! Where are you? Hello?" I heard Alice ask from the receiver.

Standing alone in Edward's dressing room, I felt like he had abandoned me for weeks. The heat from my skin intensified as I did the only thing I could to ease it. I followed Edward.

"Fuck!" I heard him say in the hallway. I took one step in his direction, my feverish body now at its highest temperature, when the elevator doors swung open, the dull yellow lights from inside lit up his face. He did not see me follow him, his face bent. He was shivering. He wrapped his arms around his body as he hurried into the elevator.

"Edward!" I ran after him. A dizzy spell came over me as I struggled to catch my breath. I was halfway to the elevator when the doors closed.

"Shit!"

That flash of heat came and went, just like before. I stumbled over from the shock of it, bracing myself for my body heat to rise once more. But instead of the fever following, my skin cooled off immediately. I found equilibrium.

I leaned against the wall with one hand. My heartbeat went back to normal. It was easy to breathe again. Then, I walked back to the dressing room, baffled by my life.

Was this what I had been missing all this time? Was this love? I remembered Jacob's words last month and my mom's this afternoon. I did not know what it was like, they had said. When I did, I would understand why they did what they did. They both did things that they should not have. Jacob stayed with Leah, even though she cheated on him. Mom was moving in with Phil, although they knew each other for only a few months. I thought they were fools, but if they had to endure this wretched physical reaction whenever they were apart, then I was wrong to judge them. If love was such a visceral experience, neither Jacob nor my mom could say no.

I walked into Edward's room, his scent all around me, filling yet frustrating at the same time. Every time I took a breath, it reminded me that he wasn't here. I wanted to talk to Alice about the email she sent me. If Ms. Evanson's first assignment was for me to read some manuscripts, then I would. I wanted to get started on it all, but I didn't have to.

There was only one thing I absolutely had to do.

Kneeling down to pick up my phone, the equilibrium shifted. A dry cool emptiness replaced it, an ironic meld of distress and dread. And every breath I took of the Irish Spring made it worse.

Millions of people could not feel what I felt throughout history. Cleopatra did not burn with the fire of a thousand suns when Marc Antony returned to Rome. How could she have? She would have gotten nothing done. Besides, that was real love. This was something else. Edward did not know me. How could I love someone I barely knew? Someone who didn't know me at all?

They say love makes people do crazy things, but those people were not in love. The physicality of it all was too demanding and undeniable for it to be love. It demanded immediate satiation, as essential as food or air or water. It was ruthless in its demands, never accepting no for an answer. One could not live without her lover because his absence would kill her.

Maybe it had a name already. Maybe it was an obsession. I think Ophelia herself would have shaken her head if she saw what I did to be with Edward over the last month. Then again, maybe it was an addiction. I remembered the first tingles peppering my skin in the train station after he left. I imagined that withdrawals would feel the same. I remembered how I thought I had to move on and focus on the internship because Edward was committed to Jane. With Edward back in the picture, the addiction seemed more accurate than the obsession.

So, here I was, addicted to Edward Cullen, and I didn't care. Not one cell in me cared.

The fates got me again. They were swimming in a river of vodka, dry vermouth, and olives. Just when I thought there was a reprieve, the nicks on the string were deeper than ever. Haters. They needed some cock in their lives. Maybe then they would stop fucking with mine.

As my phone chimed, a text message coming in, I craved Edward unlike anything I had ever craved in my life. From the pit of my growling stomach, filling the emptiness became my only concern.

I picked up my phone, skimming through Alice's message. She heeded the same warning here as she did during the call. Read the manuscripts before Monday. There were four, each one over 500 pages long.

_I wanted to tell you in person. You would have one last hurrah before you would became mo slave for the summer. She trusts that youll find the right one. And Kate doesn't have time to do it. They want a full report by Monday afternoon: 3 pm_

A slave, huh? I rolled my eyes. It could wait.

I had written my final paper in a day. And I was a much stronger student now than I was last year when my grades slipped.

It could wait.

I used to believe juggling a relationship and school was impossible. It was why I had the short-term, "liberated" relationships with Sam and half of my Modern Lit class last year. But I was a stronger student, now, and a stronger person. I could juggle the internship and this strange affair I had brewing with Edward Cullen. In fact, I had to. I didn't have a choice.

For the rest of my days, I didn't have to do anything but fill the emptiness.

I did not have to do anything but be with Edward.

* * *

**A/N: Bye. :)**


	15. Chapter 14 Promise

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 14- Promise**

**May 22, 2010**

The gnawing emptiness chewed at my insides until I could not take it anymore and ran out of Edward's dressing room. I doubt I shut the door behind me.

I hurried downstairs to the main hall, hoping Edward didn't miss too much of his workshop. To hear him talk about his craft would be an honor. I was looking forward to seeing him in his comfort zone again, on his stage. It was where he was the most stunning.

I opened the door to the auditorium slowly, hoping not to disturb them. When I crossed the threshold, though, there was nothing to disturb. A chill ran through me.

Every seat was empty. No one was here but Edward who sat on the middle of the stage at the edge, reading. He lay his cheek against his right knee, swinging his long left leg forward and backward, his heel banging against the bottom of the stage. The sound echoed over the empty seats all the way to where I stood in the doorway.

This was the stage where I had found greatness, magic, and Truth all in the same night. This was where I found Edward Cullen, the sorcerer, the god incarnate. He looked nothing like that now, without his audience, lost in the text of his book. He was so normal. He turned the page, scratching the bridge of his nose, then dug into it. I smiled at the sight. Ah, yes, very normal, but something was wrong.

Running his hand through his hair, he stopped midway when the door creaked shut. When he lifted his head from his knee, his eyes met mine. I crossed one knee over the other, nervous and overwhelmed by the flux of emotions crossing his face. He was so happy and eager for me, I could have been a birthday present, wrapped in ribbon... and nothing else.

"You came," he said simply. His deep voice was soft like kisses all around me. A delighted smile spread from cheek to cheek, and he tossed his book to the side. Hopping off the stage, he rocked on his heels for a moment, taking me in.

"I came," I replied. That emptiness and dread that had ballooned in my stomach dissipated. I hastened my steps, my legs like rubber and my stomach doing Triple Axels. The closer I got, the sweeter the air became. I breathed him in. My pure addiction.

The distance was not a factor like it was when he had left. I might as well have been on his lap. There were no tingles, either. In fact, I didn't feel my limbs at all. I was numb and awestruck by how happy he was to see me. So, I jerk him off and, suddenly, I was like the second coming of Christ? But an overdue orgasm couldn't be it. His eyes had to glow so radiantly for another reason.

"Where is everyone?" I asked him with a lump in my throat. It was 8:30. There was no way his workshop could be over so soon.

He shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe they went to your friend's party," he said with a sad smile. It was sadder than it should have been.

"Oh no." How was that possible. Jane had said the workshop was full this afternoon. What happened to change their minds?

I slowed down when I was a few steps away. Now that I was closer, I could see how messy his hair was, ravaged by his hands that were pink from his palms to his fingertips. My sorcerer had been stripped of his powers, black magic muddying his spirit.

I told him I thought tonight was sold out, and all he did was bow his head. Then, he took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. I stood an arms-length away, my eyes roaming his body. He was so loose, his thumbs hooked into the loops of his jeans. He was exactly the opposite of what I felt, my heart thumping frenetically in my chest.

When I reached out for his arms, the tips of my fingers touching his cool skin, he opened his eyes. They were sadness manifest in greens and golds. I held his face in my hands, wishing I possessed the magics to exorcise this from him.

"You must be so disappointed and so curious..." I paused, letting him kiss the palm of my right hand. His lips were cool on my skin.

"Curious?" He cocked an eyebrow, holding my hand to his cheek. "Are you saying someone did this on purpose?"

I nodded, figuring it had to be Jane in a heartbeat. When he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, I wanted to shake my head, "No," and suggest everything was perfectly fine. I didn't want to talk at all anymore.

"What are you gonna do?"

"Nothing. You're here. That's all that matters."

If he kept saying things like that to me, my fingers and toes would be numb for the rest of my existence.

He kissed my forehead, a long wet kiss, cool like snowflakes. Then, he kissed down to my temple, resting there.

He whispered in my ear, "You're so warm. I'm cold from the inside out, but you're so warm."

I wrapped my arms around him tighter, remembering him shivering before he walked into the elevator. It was stuffy up there. His chills didn't make any more sense than my fever or the tingles.

"I've never felt so cold, before," he continued. He buried his face into my neck. "Mmmmm... Bella, you're like an oven."

I stroked his hair down to the nape of his neck, smiling. "An oven?" He didn't return it.

"Think we're coming down with something?" he murmured into my neck. "Maybe it was the rain..."

I pursed my lips, contemplating telling him my theories about love and obsession, about addiction. I didn't think he would laugh at me, but I was still hesitant. Maybe it _was_ the rain...

"Maybe...Maybe, you're right."

He sighed, pressing his cheek to my forehead. Then, he pulled away, his eyes a shade brighter and less morose. He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine.

"Promise me something," he said in a low voice. He squeezed my shoulders.

"Anything."

"No matter what, don't change. Don't ever change."

I shook my head in wonder. What could he possibly not want me to change? He did not know me. Where was this coming from?

When we were in the Grand Army Plaza train station, he told me he had dreams of me. He said he wished that I could see myself through his eyes. But these were just words. Beautiful words, but just words. And all he knew of me were fantasies.

"What are you thinking?" He held my face up to his, looking into my eyes. "Bella?"

I shook my head, focusing on him again, on the worry in the lines around his eyes and forehead. I smoothed them down with my thumbs until they cleared away.

"I want you to..." I faltered, then started again. "How could you ask that of me? You don't know me."

A wistfulness filled his eyes. Then, he let go of me, turning for the stage.

"Don't I?" He said on his way there.

They were the same words he used after his matinee all those weeks ago. Then, I did not question him. I had to know why now, though. I was "the only real person" he knew? That was what he had told me so many times. If that was true, what exactly did he know?

He pulled out his phone and a leather-bound book. It was Hamlet.

"You know Hamlet. I have never seen someone know those particular lines by heart who wasn't an actor. Not since I was a teenager... " He paused, clearing his throat, offering me time to wonder. Was his mom the last one to know them?

"But you knew Hamlet that first night," he said, looking up at the white lights above the stage. His shoulders were high and tight, and he ran a hand through his hair. I wanted to rub his shoulders down, but what he said next halted my step.

"You... you had to write about this for your final paper, right? On Hamlet and The Lion King?"

"How- How did you know that?"

He faced me, his eyes down on the dark carpet.

"I saw your updates... on Facebook."

"What?" This did not mean what I thought it meant... unless it was _exactly _what I thought it meant...

"I know. I know. It's weird and kind of wrong." He spoke too quickly and his voice shook. "But I didn't know how else to find out if my gut instinct was right, and that you were real."

"When-" My eyes burned with tears. Every time I thought there was a connection, it was true? But how long had he been reading my updates?

"When did this start?" I continued, a tear rolling down my cheek.

"Don't be angry, OK? Please?" He took a step toward me, but I raised my hand to stop him. "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"I'm not... angry," I interrupted. It hurt to speak. My heart was heavy like a 30 ton fireball in my chest. I quickly wiped another tear away and swallowed thickly. "I promise I'm not. Just tell me when?"

"After what you did that first night of my performance, I had to learn more about you. I've had a lot of stalkers and groupies since I started acting here last Fall. Some of these girls... they lacked tact," he said, shaking his head with a wry smile. Laurent came to mind. The day of the matinee, he said he felt more like Edward's PA than a guy selling tickets for The New School. I would have thought I was a groupie too if I were Edward.

He took a deep breath. "And I was afraid you were one of them. So, as soon as you told me your name, I searched for you online."

It made sense. How would he have sent me a Facebook message Monday morning? I never imagined he would read my updates, though. What else did he find out about me? I asked him this and his eyes lit up.

"You're a student at Tisch on scholarship. And you just got accepted into the internship at The New Yorker. Congratulations!"

"Thank you." OK, this wasn't weird at all.

"Your favorite song is 'The Sound of Silence.' Your mom used to play it whenever you were upset. It helped you after she left. It still helps..."

"You read my Facebook note about 'Sound of Silence'? I wrote it last year..."

"I..." He paused, bowing his head. His ears turned pink. "I've read everything you've ever written."

"How? Why?"

"Why not? You're not just some ordinary girl."

Everything he was saying was too good to be true. He could not feel this way about me. I wasn't a beautiful actor who inspired others with magic and power in my eyes. I was an obsessive, compulsive, selfish, boring girl posing as a journalist.

"Bella, please stop," he said, walking up to me, wiping my cheeks dry. "You are so much."

I shook my head, pushing his hands off of my face. He was doing it again, reading somewhere deep inside of me. We had been so detached everywhere else in the world except for this theater. This was our true bubble. Nothing could touch us in here.

"You are. You were the editor at the Golden Onion in high school. You wrote witty, smart, funny material about religion, politics, art and entertainment. One of my favorites was the one about that show about Sex and the City. You called it, 'The Liberated Woman.' That older blond nympho was your idol when you were 18?"

"You didn't." I shook my head in shame, backing away to a seat in the first row. I sank into the chair, covering my face. How could he read that and respect me?

It was my open letter to all of the girls in the senior class. God, how my father_ loved _that one. I said that a girl's virginity was not as precious as society made it out to be. It was a "construct of society, established by men who valued virginal brides as little as their pure bred dogs." We had learned about the dowry system that week, and I was incensed about it. I rolled my eyes, remembering how angry I was. I wouldn't talk to my dad for weeks after that, hating him and all men in Forks. Everyone in that shitty town thought I was a whore.

"I did, Bella. Don't be ashamed. It was brilliant. Your stance on sex and gender bias was refreshing. I have met many women but never someone who thought about sex the way you do."

"The way I_ did_," I said into my hands. I dropped them into my lap, looking up into Edward's confused face. "I do_ not_ feel that way anymore."

"Why not?" He asked quietly. He sounded disappointed. I looked up at him skeptically.

"You _liked_ that I was so easy..." I said witheringly.

"You weren't easy. You refused to believe what others did and said something about it. Your virginity can't be defined for you. You should do what you want with it."

"No, I was wrong."

"You were right. Society binds us. None of these constructs are real."

"That may be, but I'm not a man or that 'older blond nympho.' I tried that lifestyle, and it didn't work."

"I know, but-"

"You _know_? How- Did you contact all of the boys I used to fuck, too?" I cursed again, suddenly overwhelmed that he knew all of this about me.

When Alice called and Jacob's voice filled Edward's dressing room earlier tonight, I was so embarrassed. I didn't want him to know about my life, not about Forks, and certainly not about my "liberated" past. Yet, here he was telling me everything that I didn't want him to know as easily as if this was his own life.

"Bella," he started. Rather than continuing, he pulled out his IPhone. His long fingers tapped the screen a couple of times. Then, they slid up slowly, stopping after a second. He walked over to me, crouching down. He placed the IPhone in my hands.

"I looked for photos of you. I saw so many of your mother and you when you were a child. But I couldn't find any recent ones until I saw you were tagged in a photo with some dude called Sam."

I looked down at his phone seeing a picture of me in profile from early last summer. Sam and I were at Coney Island all day. He had spent the afternoon taking pictures of the coast for a project he was doing on Henry David Thoreau and nature. I found out days later when he tagged me on his Facebook page that he took photos of me, too... in my blue string bikini. I chewed him out about that. I didn't want anyone knowing we were together.

"You look so beautiful in blue," Edward murmured to himself. "I couldn't resist saving this. And this one," he said, sliding his forefinger up to a long shot of me standing near the shore looking out at the dark ocean. It was from the back. Of course Edward would save that one.

I was beginning to feel violated. How dare he do this and not tell me? All this time? He couldn't pick up the phone that he used to save my photos on to call me? To find out the old fashioned way over dinner and a movie? I pushed the phone away.

"I don't want to see anymore."

"Bella, don't be like that."

"Be like what? You know all this stuff about me that I had no idea about, and you've been doing this for a month!"

He stood up, scratching his scruffy jaw, suddenly bristling.

"So, watching all of_ my _favorite movies and sending me all of those messages on Facebook was completely different?"

How he knew about that was both humiliating and infuriating. I had updated my favorite films list to include almost all of his. I had written dozens of updates about how brilliant Paul Newman was. There was nothing Edward left unturned.

"OK, fine. I'm a stalker. You're a stalker. It doesn't make this any less weird right now." I folded my arms over my chest.

"You think I _wanted_ to do this? I've never done anything like this in my life for anyone. After I left town and couldn't see you for a week, it was the only way I could stay connected to you."

"Why didn't you tell me that you knew about all of this weeks ago?"

"The same reason why you didn't." He crossed his arms too, a wry smile on his lips. "I'm a stalker. You're a stalker."

He walked over to me, crouching down. He brought his hand up to my cheek. Then, he stroked my jaw with his rough thumb, as hot as the blood pulsing in my veins.

"But I know... I know you did it for similar reasons..."

I nodded slowly, drowning in his gaze. "I did it because you were more than real. You were..." I looked down at my hands in my lap. "No, you _are _ideal. You're perfect, Edward."

He stroked my bottom lip, and I shut my eyes relishing his touch and the way his breathing had synced with mine. He held my right hand, kissing my palm.

When I opened my eyes, he said, "Will you always feel that way about me?"

I nodded again and his eyes rekindled like candles on a birthday cake. This was how he should be forever, content and loved. But would he keep a promise for me?

We had not been on a first date. I did not know anything more about him than what I've read online. And Jane might have been right before. I may "never be able to handle the real man behind that makeup on stage." What if who he really was _did _make me want to run away?

No, Jane was just trying to scare me. Edward _was _perfect. He was normal. He was beautiful. he was perfect. And because of that, I needed him to keep this promise until the end of our days.

"Promise _me _one thing," I whispered, feeling his sigh warm on my knuckles. He kissed them three times.

"Don't leave."

Edward's eyes were clear and open. The viridian was like a bad memory in this moment. Atropos's shears were rusty and ineffective. My life was bound with Edward's. No one could tear us apart ever again, not even fate.

"Never Bella. I am here, always, for my life."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye. :)**


	16. Chapter 15 Perfection

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 15- Perfection**

**May 20, 2010**

"Don't leave."

Edward's eyes were clear and open. The viridian was like a bad memory in this moment. Atropos's shears were rusty and ineffective. My life was bound with Edward's. No one could tear us apart ever again, not even fate.

"Never, Bella. I am here, always, for my life."

How could I explain him? How could I define him? How could I even dream of a man so beautiful?

The ideal.

Edward and I hurried backstage with the sole intent to finish what we started on the 3 train in Brooklyn. Hastily, he unbuttoned the shirt he helped me to button half an hour before. Some buttons popped off, bouncing on the floor like forgotten inhibitions.

His hands roamed my body from front to back, trembling over my breasts and ass. We almost tripped over some boxes when he pinched my nipples. He whispered how he couldn't wait to be inside of me as he kicked off his sneakers. I was dizzy with the thought of the upcoming sensations. The positions... How his heartbeat would match mine in veracity and speed. How close we would finally be, how connected.

As we kissed, hard and long kisses that almost hurt, I saw a bed in my periphery. It was the same bed I saw on stage from Hamlet.

By the time we reached it, he was pushing his jeans off, and I had discarded my sneakers. He stood before me in only his striped boxers, perfect.

"So beautiful. Don't change. Don't change," he repeated against my lips as he hugged me to his warm body, maybe even warmer than mine.

His chest crushed my breasts, our heartbeats colliding, racing against each other like hares on a track. It felt so good for him to want me, to need me as much as I needed him. After a month of not knowing how he felt about me and doubting how special we were just three hours ago, it felt so good to know that I may be the only woman in the world that could satiate him. I was the only woman in the world that could make his fantasies a reality.

I kissed him on his cheek, murmuring in his ear, "Lie down, Edward." He stopped me immediately.

"This bed isn't real," he smiled apologetically. He pushed some of the pillows aside and lifted the crimson and gold comforter, revealing the last thing I expected.

"It's made of wood." As I peered down, he knocked on it. "See?"

I frowned at the fake bed, fingering the edges of a pillowcase. It had looked so inviting on stage, but it turned out not to be how I had imagined it at all. Even now, the way the amber lights above us softened all the props and furniture, everything seemed better than they actually were.

A part of me felt cheated by this knowledge, like a cuckold in any of Shakespeare's comedies. I was played. But another part of me was glad. It was better to know than to not know. And now that I knew, I didn't care.

"Does it matter?" I asked, looking up at him again. "As long as it's strong enough to hold us."

Edward grimaced, tightening his hold around my waist. "I won't make love to you for the first time on a fake bed, Bella."

"I promise, in a couple of minutes," I said, cupping his balls in my right hand, "You won't care where we are."

He shook his head, carefully pushing my hand off of him. He took a deep breath, setting his jaw, the blond hairs on his forearms standing on end. Then, with a fiery gaze, he pulled me away from the bed.

"I have a better idea," he said. He turned around for what looked like a raspberry-colored chaise near the black brick wall at the back of the stage.

It was quite possibly the most romantic chaise I had ever seen. It had golden legs and cushions that beckoned me. I think I saw hearts sown into the soft velvet material... although that could have been the lighting.

"Ladies first," Edward said. He stepped to the side so that I could walk ahead of him. With every step, I saw that they indeed were hearts sown into the cushions.

I sat down, waiting for him to join me, admiring the view. When he stood before me, I licked my lips, staring up at him with a smile. His eyes were wide, glowing buttery yellow under the amber lights. He wouldn't stop gazing down at my breasts. My nipples hardened as he held my face, my mouth watering from the proximity of his cock.

I played with the solitary button of his boxers, my palms sweating. I was sweating everywhere, actually. It was like a sauna back here. I rubbed my thighs together, feeling how slick they were.

Edward sighed, licking his bottom lip, breathing as quickly as I was. He wanted this. I thought I would have to convince him, but something had changed in him ever since we made our promises. Something solidified between us. He let his inhibitions down moments ago. Now he stood bare before me, open to my adoration for him.

When I unbuttoned his boxers, he held his breath. As I pulled them down and fell to the floor, I held mine.

My Adonis.

"I know you're not used to this," I said, my voice quiet and soothing. I stopped staring to look up at him. He shook his head no, stroking my cheek.

"Not at all. Umm..." He drew out the "umm," and I sighed, shaking my head. Jane couldn't even give him a blow job for three years.

Pure evil.

"I'll make you feel so good, Edward." I tilted my head to the side, marveled by the shade of pink, the girth, his scent. I took a deep breath, holding the back of his hairy legs in both of my hands.

"So good," I mumbled, kissing his inner left thigh. I slowly closed my fingers over the base of his shaft. Then, I licked the head of his cock to the sound of him hissing. It was sweet and a bit minty from his body wash. Shutting my eyes, kissing along the side of his shaft to his grunts, I took him in.

I didn't have time to breathe or scream because he thrust his cock into my mouth like a wild mustang. I pulled back, coughing, my eyes watering.

"Sorry. Shit!" He rubbed the back of his neck and stumbled backwards. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, holding my chest for a breath. I wiped my eyes dry, willing my heart to stop racing. He crouched down, worried from the crown of his head to the tip of his toes.

"I'm fine, don't look at me like that. And stop!" I grabbed his hand from his neck to make him stop rubbing. "Calm down." I gave him a peck on the lips and rubbed his shoulders. "Let me try again."

"I don't want to hurt you," he said taking my hand between both of his.

"Then, you should lie down." I stood up, biting my lip as he actually didn't contest this either. I walked over to the end of the short, albeit wide, chaise. His bare feet reached the floor. His legs were so long, but I imagined I could straddle him in it... and ride him.

Keeping eye contact this time, I peeled off his shirt from my shoulders. When it dropped down to the floor, his eyes glazed over, and he began to breathe deeply. He reached out for me and intertwined our fingers.

"Come." Edward lay down, his cock still glistening from my saliva. I placed my thumb over the tip, rubbing it. "Get on top of me," he urged.

I shook my head, kneeling down at his feet. I concentrated on his eyes as I came face to face with his cock once more.

I took him in, slowly working him with my mouth and my hands. His breathing became erratic and his lips were pressed together in a thin red line as he struggled to keep it together. In less than a minute, though, I tasted his precum. When I tightened my grip around his shaft, slippery from my saliva, his eyes opened wide, meeting mine in shock, then rolling up and closing.

"Christ, Bella!" He formed a fist with his right hand, pounding his forehead three times. He was so sensitive, too sensitive. And when my mouth filled with more precum, I decided it was time to go to the next level.

My body tingling all over, I relaxed my throat and swallowed his cock. He was so hot and thick. My mouth watered and one hand squeezed his hips as I pulled him in deeper and deeper. Fuck! It was like he saw God the way he called for me, and it turned me on like nothing else.

"How-" he cursed then grabbed the back of my head, pushing me down further. "Damn." He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head back.

_God, yes. Yes_! I squeezed his balls in my left hand, on the brink of ecstasy myself. I reached down and rubbed my clit, now soaking wet with my juices. Damn, I wanted him inside of me. My clit throbbed, anticipating the sensation of his cum in my mouth.

I heard him make a strangled noise a couple of minutes later, and I pulled him out from my throat. That was when I tasted his cum. Hot spurts shot into my mouth, and with another ejaculation, I tasted his cum on my tongue. He was sweet and bitter and salty all at once. Wow.

Edward slowed his thrusts and held my hand up to his chest, stroking my knuckles. I moaned around his softening cock, amazed and content but far from fulfilled.

"Mother of... God, Bella." When I opened my eyes, his cheeks and the backs of his ears were red. "Come here."

He pulled me up and onto his chest. I straddled him, kissing him hard. My body hummed at a high frequency, ready to be tuned up to the highest volume.

With our eyes inches apart, I noticed how his glimmered in a way I had seen when he came in my hands in his shower earlier tonight.

I remembered how a sadness coursed though them after the matinee. And since then, it never really went away. But now, lying on top of him, he seemed so happy. Deep in his irises, the sadness was still there. It might always be. Instead of frustration or lust or the viridian walls, however, there was something else shining through: validation.

"I never want to stop feeling this," I whispered, resting my cheek on his chest. His hands caressing my ass, my skin pulsed from his touch. The sensation was euphoric, from my face to my ass and thighs. It spread across my breasts, down to my ribs and tummy. It warmed us, my heartbeat quick against his now slow one.

Sweat dotted his brow and upper lip, my forearms and thighs, the latter which he held in both of his hands.

"God, don't stop." I moaned, the littlest things were making me so wet and impatient. When he pulled me up to suck my nipple, a shock of sparks erupted down my right side.

"Fuck!" he groaned and grabbed my face, holding it down for a fervent kiss. Our tongues wild in our mouths, the pulse scurried across the back of my neck, to my spine, forward to my chest and down to my core. His moans vibrated within his chest, deepening the pulse.

The stuffy space smelled of sex, thick and pungent, filling my senses, enticing me. Everything was happening so fast, but I didn't want to slow down. I wanted more. I needed him to envelop me and fill me so that everywhere I turned, and everything I fathomed was Edward.

Dying to feel his bare cock against my throbbing clit, every muscle along my arms, in my core, and down my legs tensed. I anchored my hands across his shoulders, squeezing them. The pulse barreled down to my very soul, and I trembled. I needed his cock to fill me, for the pulse to reach my depths.

"Bella..." Edward held my forearms, his voice low and rich with passion. Never had a man said my name in this way, so deep it reached my bones. His voice was in my mind and a part of my thoughts. His voice made my name everything I never thought it was defined to be: beautiful.

Swiftly, I slid down low to the base of his cock and slid my wet pussy up his smooth, hot shaft.

We cursed from the sticky and hot contact. Edward hissed, his hands gripping my hips painfully as he guided the ride. After only a minute, the pace was so fast and so many sensations exploded from us, I lost control of all of my thoughts and emotions. My clit was in its happy place and never wanted to leave. It was in a blissful dream and never wanted to wake up.

"So wet. Always wet for me," he whispered. My abs coiled and a wave of stronger pleasure grew from deep inside of me. I dropped forward, my breasts pressed against his chest. His heartbeat was still slow. Frustrated by his composure, I reached down between us, stroking him fast, matching the speed with my grind. A low growl rose in his throat, and he pushed his pelvis up into my hand.

"God... Damn!" His hands flew up to my waist and he flipped me over so I lay sprawled beneath him. I dug my heels into the cushions, continuing the grind, pushing my hips up into him. I clawed at his chest, pulling him closer, needing him closer, needing his beauty.

"Please fuck me! Please!"

Every few thrusts, the tip of his cock would slip in and he had to push my hips down to the chaise to slow things down. His composure was legendary. God, I was his. I was ready to fuck him bare and he wouldn't let go. He grabbed a condom from within the crease of the chaise.

So, that's where they were...

He ripped it open with his teeth and one hand, spreading my legs with the other.

"Fuck me. Fuck me." I moaned, sitting up as he pulled the condom out of the package. The scent of the rubber turned me on like an aphrodisiac. It had been too long since I had seen one of those. I licked his shoulder, biting into the freckles on his neck.

After he rolled the condom on his cock, he lay me down again, kissing me on my lips, on my cheeks, in my hair. He was everywhere.

His warm breaths tickled my collarbone as he looked down at me, holding my hands between our slick bodies. My thighs became numb and my fingers heated as he brought my palms to his face and then grasped mine.

"Edward..."

"Shhh." He lowered his gaze, his hands capturing my heart. He leaned forward and breathed me in deeply. When I slid my hand down to his chest, his heart was beating rapidly. It was exactly the same tempo.

"You are my ideal, you know that?" he asked, raising his gaze. Kryptonite. I had to look away. It was wrought with too much emotion, emotion that he had reciprocated time and again, but I refused to believe. In this moment, I had no choice but to accept it. This was real.

"My perfect girl, Bella," he whispered onto my lips and kissed me. Then, he wrapped his arms around me for a tight hug, lifting me off the chaise. I buried my face into his neck. "Bella."

When he lay me down again, an electric charge zinged between us, like our kiss in Times Square, igniting our flesh to pinks and reds simultaneously. We exhaled slowly, both confused and transfixed by how intense things suddenly were.

Edward brushed my cheek tenderly with the back of his forefinger. He gently held my hips and pulled me down to the tip of his cock. With a sweet kiss, he entered me.

We started slow, the fire in each thrust, the sweetest ecstasy and the most exquisite pain. Our kisses were warm and wet. Our languid tongues reveled in our taste, our varied textures. I covered his heart with my right hand, his chest hair scratching my palms, and I felt the beat. Dunh dunh. Dunh dunh. Dunh dunh, like a locomotive on the rails, so fast and picking up speed.

"Incredible," he murmured onto my cheek, kissing it. His palms slowly slid up and down my chest, wet with sweat. He squeezed my nipples, fucking me harder. How he filled me! Every muscle tensed, my fingers clawing at his back and in his hair. When the waves rolled down faster, multiplying with each thrust, I lost it.

I don't remember what was said. I don't remember what we swore. As I stared up at him and he down at me, all I saw was all-encompassing lust. I saw fire and water. I saw my future, content and fulfilled. I saw Edward.

"Faster!" I called out, arching my back, gasping for air. Raising my legs up over his shoulders, I wanted more. Always more. "Edward, please!" He grabbed my calves, his thrusts so hard the nerve endings in my ass were shot.

The sound of our cries and lovemaking filled the space, sending millions of sparks flying down my spine. I loved the sound of his voice, his many octaves and timbres. He started out sounding like a young man sipping tea with his moans. Now, they were more guttural, wilder and animalistic.

I didn't expect this from him. Shit. I loved it, but it surprised me. I didn't know he had this in him. Then, in another unexpected and sudden move, he pulled out, cussing, and pushing my legs down to the chaise.

"What..." Reaching out for his face, I tried to see in his eyes why he wanted to stop. He roughly flipped me onto my tummy and instantly, I realized why. A flurry of curse words fell from my lips down to the lush raspberry cushions as he grabbed my hips and fucked me from behind so hard, I could no longer tell the difference between pleasure and pain. He hurt so fucking good.

Goosebumps rose over my arms and across my chest as an intense heat I had never felt in my life burgeoned from the depths of me. He smacked my ass, and I saw Edward. He wasn't in my line of sight, but I saw him in his entirety. He was deep down inside, and I never wanted him to climb out.

"Yes!" I stretched my back down, pushing my ass into his hands, into each punishing thrust. "Never... stop!"

We had wanted this position since we were on the train. For him, this was like a dream coming true. I heard the satisfaction from him in each sigh, each smack, each time he lifted my legs off of the couch to get closer. It was here, now, it was real.

I squeezed the cushion below me, screaming with abandon. Then, I shut my eyes, relinquishing whatever sense of reality I had left in my life. I lost my sense of time and space, when all I could handle in this disembodied state was the true connection.

My muscles uncoiled like a snake. The wave rolled all the way down. The palpitations in my heart spread up my neck and down my tummy, my anticipation was at its peak. And with his final thrust, we came together, souls mixing and reforming, full.

We were drenched by the time we could breathe normally again. His body heavy and so real over mine, I eventually crashed back down to earth. He breathed into my ear how perfect I was until we dozed off, creating more dreams that we would have forever to make into a reality.

Our connection had left the metaphysical realm. It had crossed the dimension we had forged months ago and entered a new one. Our bubble was now solidified. Our connection was real, like lightning and thunder, powerful and illuminating. Our connection was as beautiful as a poem, as everlasting as the lines in the sonnet:

_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

_It is the star to every wandering bark,_

_Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken._

Never shaken. We were never shaken and fixed. Forever.

I was being too cynical and too cerebral before. This was more than addiction or obsession. It had to be. It couldn't feel this good if it wasn't. Everything in him was good and nothing hurt.

It was love, as Shakespeare's sonnet had described. God, it was the purest form of love.

*Perfection*

June 20, 2011

It was a simple request riddled with irony that I would not understand until a year had passed.

"Don't leave," I had told him. Back when we were still learning about one another, and I was in awe of my addiction instead of terrified by it, I asked him to do something that I thought was imperative to my survival. I thought I needed him to survive, period.

But as time passed and our lives became one, I slowly began to realize that my instincts were wrong, so so wrong. In the end of our days, he wouldn't break his promise, I would.

Not only would I be the one who would change, I would be the one who would leave.

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**A/N: This is the end of Part 1, which started out with "Turning." Part 2, "Fleeing," will be the next update. **

**"Fleeing" is a continuation of what happens in the Prologue "Turning." So, there is a time shift to the present. I hope this doesn't confuse you. But if you remember in "Turning," Bella is about to break up with Edward and doesn't know how she will go through it.**

**Thank you to jtmd24, Credoroza and SaritaDreaming for sharing their love of "Perchance to Dream" with the fanfiction community. I really appreciate the love you all have expressed on twitter, on your own fanfiction, and on your blogs. I hope the next few chapters will be as good as you think the first few have been.**

**Bye. :)**


	17. Part 2 Fleeing

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :(**

**maxipoo1024 heard this recommendation and thought it fit with PTD. She was so damn right.**

******Music Recommendation- Muse: "Time is Running Out"**

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**Part Two- Fleeing**

**June 20, 2011- Present Day**

I watch the door knob turn, a sliver of warm yellow light from the hallway opening up like a sunrise across the dark, wooden floor. The candlelight flickers as Edward crosses the threshold and the door swings shut.

Earlier today, when he left for Shakespeare in the Park with his brother, Emmett, and his father, Carlisle, he had on a pair of gray slacks and a dark-blue button-down shirt. His clothing is drenched now, nearly black. His shirt clings to his pecs and abs. His red hair is flat and bronze down his forehead. I hadn't realized it was raining until I saw him. My body could not register the raindrops beating against the windowpane, not when I was so wrapped up in my thoughts. I hear the rain, now, though. Its like a chant, telling me what I have been trying to convince myself was the right thing to do all night.

I must leave Edward.

He shakes the rain from his hair, water showering the floor. He flips his waterlogged dress shoes off, staring at me from the door. His eyes remind me of the night we first made love at the New School theater last year. They were so bright, so hopeful. They're brighter tonight as he scans the room. The dinner from Spice, the candles, my blue dress, me. He smiles, running his hand through his hair, and I sigh. He is so beautiful. My God he is beautiful.

"Baby, what is all this?" He whispers, his eyes resting on mine. I see how much he loves my surprise, and it is bittersweet. I haven't seen him this happy in months, probably since the opening night of "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof." But that was back in January, when what seemed perfect on the surface was crumbling from beneath us. His father must have given him good news, hope radiated from him the moment he opened the door.

"Happy birthday, Edward," I say, my voice falsely cheerful. I smile, my eyes burning from the forthcoming tears. And like always, ever since the first day we met, Edward feels me. The connection is here, just as it always was, even when Jane came back into the picture late last year.

He wants to touch me. It's a strange thing that I have noticed about him since last summer. He grinds his teeth and shakes his hand at his side, flexing his fingers. He doesn't do it for long, reaching me in five long strides. He bends down next to me, reaching for my hands. They are hot and sticky when they cover mine.

The spark is still there, the pull to be with him as strong as ever. Yet unlike every day for the last year, I dread it. I cannot succumb to this again. I cannot drown in him. This is not love; it never was.

A tear falls down my cheek, and he frowns, his forehead rippling like waves.

"Bella, stop. This is beautiful. You are beautiful." His voice is quiet, tender, soothing like chamomile tea. He has to look away when another tear falls onto our hands. He can't handle my tears.

"I'm sorry. I wanted this to be perfect for you."

"It is perfect. I have never had such a perfect birthday in my life. My dad told me I've been offered the lead in the Paul Newman biopic."

"What... biopic?" I look up at him, releasing his hands, the skin on the back of mine prickling. I wipe my tears, watching him stand. "When did you audition?"

Edward fingers the tips of my hair. It has grown so long over the last couple of months, too long. But I didn't want to cut it because he hated when I had cut it for my birthday in September. He lets go of the strands, staring over my shoulder out the window.

"I sent a tape in February."

"Oh."

We didn't talk much in February because Edward was an ass in February.

"They were originally going for someone more established, someone British," he says, walking around the table to sit across from me. "But dad knows one of the producers and convinced him."

"I don't get it," I say. The candlelight heightens the golden hues around his pupils. "You hate L.A., that's why you left remember? And you've always told me that you never wanted to make a film because of your mom."

"I know but... this is Paul Newman we're talking about, you know?" He reaches out for my hands from across the table. His thumbs begin stroking my palms, and all of the thoughts in my mind flee from my body. As I shut my eyes, the confusion wanes. He holds my left hand to his lips and leans in, kissing my knuckles three times.

"We won't stay there long. Filming will start in a couple of weeks and end before your birthday in September. We can come back if you want."

We.

There cannot be a "we" after tonight. I open my eyes, pulling my hand out of his again. I cannot let him touch me. I will never leave if I do.

I stare at my hands for a second, feeling the tears build again. I lower my face so that he will not see me and want to comfort me again.

"I don't think I can... do that."

"Do what? Come to L.A.?"

My stomach flips, the spicy chicken smelling like rotten eggs. I stand up, walking towards the couches in the living room as if I were treading water. It is darker there; the only light comes in from the street. For that, I am glad. I can speak freely in the darkness. And with distance, I can think straight, and the tingling will stop.

I hear his footsteps follow me, though, and I stop at the arm of one of the chocolate leather couches. He wanted them because he loved chocolate. It was what calmed him down before a performance. That is, before he met me.

"_All I need is your kiss, and I could blow away Florenz Ziegfeld himself_."

"I need space, Edward."

The moment I say it, I regret it. It is not what I mean, but it is what I have felt for the last five months, all in a span of four words.

His footsteps slow behind me until they stop. His breaths become heavier, as do mine. When I sit down on the couch, I see him run his hands through his hair from my peripheral vision. He is closer to me than I thought, a mere step away.

"Did something happen earlier? Did Jane call you?"

"No," I sigh. "I mean, something happened but it wasn't Jane."

"What, then?" He takes that final step, and I tremble. Everything in me screams to fold into him. One touch and the pain will cease. And when I look up at him, at his green eyes, the most powerful drug in the world, I feel the familiar haziness set in my brain. I feel like I don't have one at all. All there is is Edward.

No. I need to find myself. I cannot wake up tomorrow and be this lost.

I pull my knees up, as if shielding myself, taking a deep breath.

"I don't think... I want...I can't do this anymore."

"This? What? Us? You can't do us anymore?"

"Edward," I choke out. "I don't know who I am... what I want to do with my life. I don't know how to be... How can I be with no one but you?" I don't even know if I make sense. I can't understand my own words.

"Where is this coming from? We've been happy for months."

"No!" I exclaim, pointing at him. "You've been happy! You've excelled. You've grown. You're the better person after all of this time. But look at me! I almost lost my life last year."

"That was Alice's fault, goddammit!" He scowls, vehement. "I told you to stay away from her."

"That was not Alice. That was you and me. And I thought things would get better, but they haven't. I was supposed to graduate from college last week. I'm supposed to be on my way to being an editor. Now, I am nothing."

"Bella," Edward whispers, crouching down in front of me, reaching for my hand. But I fold it beneath my underarm, petulant, turning away from him. Without pause, he grabs both of my arms, my body immediately responding. I cannot pull away when he is this passionate. It's like trying not to breathe.

We remain like this for a time, reveling in the unique sensations our touches bring. When he lets go of my wrists clumsily, he wipes my tears. Stroking my cheeks with his thumb, he shushes me as if this were any other time he has soothed me, as if he weren't the source of all of my inner turmoil. He squeezes my knees.

"You can't think that." He is resolute, his voice firm. "I won't let you think that."

"Edward, let go of me. Please."

He does not, taking my chin and turning it towards him. I can do nothing but yield to him. I can't fight him off. The pull is too strong. All I can do is speak.

"Look, if this is about L.A.," he continues. "We don't have to go. I can decline. You're right. I belong in New York. I will help you get back on your feet."

"It's not L.A.," I say, whimpering.

He strokes the crown of my head, endorphins flooding my brain. I sigh, as his rough palms cup my cheek. My skin warms, and my nipples harden. It's always the same. I am a victim of his touch.

"It's about Jasper. You still don't trust me."

The side of his index finger glides across the top of my upper lip, which tremble from the slight pressure. And his scent... It isn't as sweet as chocolate, as sour as cigarette smoke, or the intoxicating combination of the two. It is just Edward: lust... addiction.

"No!" I push his hands away, jumping up and rounding the couch so that at least a couple of feet separate us. He does not move, stunned by what I just did. I've never pushed him away before.

Edward kneels on the couch, trying to get closer.

"Stop, Edward."

"No. This is preposterous."

I rush to the hallway, the two flickering candlelights on the dining room table catching my eye. Dinner is like a remnant from another time. The chicken is no longer fragrant and hot on the china. The beer must have gone stale. The candles look like stubs, the wicks fighting to keep the fire going. But they are near their end. In moments, the apartment will be shrouded in darkness.

"I have to go," I exclaim near the door, whirling around to stop him if he has come too close. He stands across the room, his stubbornness radiating from him. He does not like being denied anything. We are both selfish creatures, devouring what we want, especially each other. Perhaps this is what our bond was truly based on, satiation.

His brows knit together, and he rubs the back of his neck, staring at me, adamant.

"I will not accept that."

"There's nothing you can do," I respond quickly. "I'm leaving you."

"Why, because you think you're nothing? You are everything."

"You can't see it. You can't see how wrong this is. We can never make each other happy. All we will do is take what we want from each other until one of us is destroyed. For the last year, you've destroyed me."

"I've done nothing but try to make you happy, Bella." His voice is cool and collected. He walks to the dinner table, completely calm. He stares at the candles for a moment, before turning to face me. His eyes bear into mine. "You forgave me. I thought you didn't hate me for what I did last Fall."

"I don't. I never hated you. You needed me."

"So, you're afraid? You're afraid I'll do it again." As I shake my head, he mumbles, "You're denying it, but it's true. You don't trust me."

"You'll never hurt me again. I know it." I cannot look away from his eyes, spellbound. "And I trust you with my life."

Suddenly, lightning strikes behind him. The room is an electric white, every surface is drained of color... even Edward's eyes. He looks over his shoulder, out the window, as thunder crashes through the air. It does not look like the rain will let up. The storm may last through the night.

When the rumbling thunder ceases, the light in the candles go out. Now, only our voices remain. His eyes, my kryptonite, no longer hold me captive.

"It's me. I don't trust myself anymore. I can't see myself because... what we share... this is a drug."

"It's not."

"You are my drug." I whisper. "It was never love, Edward. If it was, you would let me go!"

"What if I refuse?"

"It won't matter. I'm leaving tonight."

He curses, rushing over to me. Lightning strikes again. His hair is like the fire that burned the candles down. As he comes closer, I see that his cheeks are wet. I try to back away a bit further, but I hit the door. The only way out is to actually leave.

I open the door when he is a stride away.

"Bella! No! Not in this storm!"

I run to the elevator, his footsteps and breaths so close behind me, the hairs on my arms and legs stand on end. He is too fast for me, catching up easily. He has always been in better shape.

"Bella, stop!" He grabs my arm, but I yank it out before he squeezes it any tighter. Then, I turn around and push him away.

He stumbles back a couple of steps, stunned once more. I don't hesitate, continuing on, hoping his shock has alotted me extra time.

My fingers feel numb when I reach the elevator, the doors opening immediately. I punch the buttons desperately, the doors closing amidst his pleas. My hope for a clean break is crushed when he kicks his foot out to stop the doors from closing. I back into the steel handrail of the elevator.

"What are you doing, huh?" He corners me, overbearing in height and the intensity of his eyes. "You have nowhere else to be but with me." He wraps his arms around me, crushing my face to his chest, and I feel like dying. We live in the penthouse. It's going to be a long ride down.

I can't fight him off, I can't push him away here, not in this elevator. We've made love in this elevator.

He kisses my forehead, sweetly. I look up into his eyes, stroking his lips slowly with my fingertips, from left to right. I remember how soft his kisses were that night we made love here. He was trying to make me feel better. And we were so broken a couple of months ago, that the only way he could help me was by making love.

As we descend, I stand on the tips of my toes to kiss him slowly, the sparks and the heat taking my breath away.

"I love you, Bella, so much," he whispers in my ear when we come up for air. "You and I know what it's like to be addicted to drugs. This is not the same thing. Its so much purer than that."

I stroke his right cheek, which is still wet. But I can't tell if they are his tears or mine.

We arrive on the ground level.

"I'm sorry," I whisper in his ear. I try to push his rigid arms down from my waist, but he is too strong.

"You promised me, remember? You promised you would not change. And now you're breaking more than one promise. You're breaking mine."

"Edward, please don't." I remembered so fucking well that promise. But I couldn't let that part of our history tear down my resolve. Nothing was real back then. Everything was a dream.

"Don't what? Don't love you? I'm sorry but I can't. After everything we've been through, I can't do that, Bella."

"It wasn't love, Edward. It isn't love. It will never be love."

The doors open, and an older gentleman walks in behind us, shaking his umbrella of the heavy rain. Some of the water drops splash onto Edward, and he loosens his hold. I break out from his hug, shaking my arms of the tingling.

"I have to go. I have to. I'm sorry."

I back out of the elevator, slowly, unsure of where to go because I don't have any money. I might have to go back to my mom's apartment in Brooklyn, even though I sublet it to a Sam. I can't go to Alice. She isn't in New York anymore after what happened last year. And Jacob is still on tour.

Carlisle told me he would help me when it came to leaving Edward tonight. In fact, he promised me he would. But he was no where to be seen, just as I predicted. I had to fend for myself. In the end I was alone in the most absolute sense.

All there is, is Edward. With him, I became nothing. If I stay, I may become the shell of nothing. I don't know what I will be without him, but I have to try. I cannot risk an overdose.

I watch Edward's eyes water and become out of focus. He flexes his fingers.

Before the elevator doors close and I back out to the street, the gentleman asks him who I am.

Edward whispers hoarsely, "My life."

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**A/N: Bye :(**


	18. Chapter 16 Monsters

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. :)**

**The last chapter, "Fleeing," was a glimpse of the present, which I won't return to until the Part 3. I hope that isn't too confusing. Now, I'm heading back a year to 2010. Over the next ten or so chapters, everything will be explained.**

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**Chapter 16- Monsters**

**May 22, 2010**

Monday morning I woke up in a panic.

Jacob's voice wailed from my cell phone, the chorus of "Tremble," the worst collection of sound one could hear at five a.m. I waved about my cell phone blindly, squinting through one eye from my pillow. Shit! Was this my pillow?

I took a deep breath and smelled man. You know that scent of sex, musk, sweat, and some foreign cologne that I couldn't name but could never get enough of. There was something else, too. I heard breathing. Deep, long, manly breathing. God, I forgot what that sounded like?...

Grabbing my phone, I hit "Accept" by accident, before Jacob would begin wailing the chorus again.

"Hello?"

"Bella! Are you ready for your big day?"

"Hi, Mom." She was so loud, I pushed the volume of my speakers down. The mattress shifted to my right. Yes, it was my mattress. Edward and I were in my apartment. We had been here since early Sunday morning and never left.

"Is that sleep I hear in your voice?" Mom asked, surprised.

"No, Mom, I'm up. I'm up." I scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching. Everything hurt but in the best way.

"Are you ready for the first day of the rest of your life? You do know that whatever you accomplish today will change everything."

"No pressure..." I turned around to face Edward. He lay on his side, propped up on his elbows, staring at me. I was still naked from last night, so he chose to focus on the most obvious places.

"Morning," he mumbled, grinning. His hair looked like a cat ran around in it all night. And his eyes. Oh, there was pure mischief in his eyes.

"You excel under pressure, remember? Now I know you have a long day ahead. So I'll let you go, now. But call me later, baby. I want all the details!"

"Okay, Mom! Bye!" I hung up, tossing my phone onto the nightstand. As the screen dimmed, I saw it was exactly 5:12 in the morning. And when I looked down at the floor, I saw the last thing in the world that should have been there.

"Fuck!" I bent down and snatched the tablet Alice had given me on Friday from the floor. It must have fallen off my lap over night while I was sleeping. "Oh God, please no!" I searched for cracks or scratches and luckily found none. I sighed in relief, although it was short-lived. I was officially and royally fucked.

"Hey, don't freak out, come on." Edward said, pushing the covers off of him. I nodded and my breath hitched. He was naked, too. Damn him. Damn him and his morning wood. Getting up on his knees, he scooted over to me, taking the tablet away from my hands. He pulled me in for a long hug. This was how he pulled me away from my assignment yesterday, an innocent hug. Pulling away yesterday was impossible, but I had to this morning. It would be so hard, but I would have to do it.

"You can do this," he assured me when he pulled away. He stroked my ass, the yearning for him brewing in my depths.

"I would be more ready if we hadn't fallen asleep. And if we hadn't spent the entire day in bed." I frowned but wasn't as put off by him as I had posed.

"So you read one of the four manuscripts, so what? It's an internship. They can't expect that much from you so early."

"They do," I said, picking up the tablet and navigating to the second manuscript called, _The Yellow River_. It had over 400 pages. "Oh God. What the fuck was I thinking holding this off until last night?"

"You weren't thinking, remember?" Edward replied. With the early morning light filtering in through my curtains, his eyes were huge pools of green and shimmering gold. Last night I had dreamed of falling into them and drinking him in. He tasted like fresh spring water in my dream... the dream I should not have had.

"Look, don't stress out about it. It's your first day. She'll understand."

"No, she won't. Esme Evanson's got this three strike rule. I've already have one strike against me. I can't get ano-"

Edward did a double-take.

"What?" I asked him.

"You said Esme Evanson, the editor." He sat down on the bed, rubbing his right cheek.

"Yup, that's her name." I cocked an eyebrow, pausing. "You know her?"

Edward nodded. "She and my dad..." He paused.

"What?"

"A few years ago, they got married."

Get out!

"Seriously?" What a small world. The way his lips twitched and his eyes darkened, it looked like it didn't end well. "But..."

"Umm," he sighed, taking my hands in his. "It was brief. Dad got it annulled. But I do recall the three strike rule... Hmm..." He frowned, a deep crease forming in his brow.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Not necessarily..." He picked up the tablet again, closing the .pdf file and accessing the internet browser. "What are the authors' names?"

I told him. Then, he began typing on the tablet.

"Edward, what are you doing?"

"I'll contact the authors for you and ask them to write a report on their pieces and email them to you by noon. How does that sound?"

Why didn't I think of that? "That's..."

"Brilliant, I know," he said grinning, mischief in his eyes once more. "You can thank me tonight." I ruffled his hair, trying to laugh him off when what I really wanted to do was thank him, now.

"But... what if they're not available?" Edward rolled his eyes, typing again.

"I knew Esme only a couple months, but I have yet to see someone say no to her. They'll drop everything the moment I tell them this is for her."

"True. I guess. True." I paused, watching him for a moment. "You don't have to do this, you know. It's my responsibility."

"I know." Edward looked up at me, the sunlight hitting his eyes that made them seem so clear, like the spring water in my dream. "I want to."

I never liked the idea of marriage, but if this was how it was, how real love was, I would never let this man go.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" He asked, genuinely curious.

I shook my head, kissing him on his cheek, hugging him again.

"Thank you."

Forty minutes later, I was ready to leave with two of the three reports ready... and my heart aching.

Edward stood fully clothed in my kitchen drinking some OJ. He felt it, too. The hairs on his forearm stood on end, and he rubbed the back of his neck red. Just like when we were in his dressing room before the workshop, the tingling swirled around my skin. In a few minutes, the dread would hollow me out, leaving me burning hot and Edward cold.

"When are you done? I'll pick you up," he said, following me to the door. He wrapped his arms around my middle, his crotch pressed against my lower back. It eased the aching and tingles tremendously. If only I could take his arms with me.

"I'm off at five," I murmured. "And this is on Broadway and 7th?" He kissed the nape of my neck, heat spreading between my thighs.

"Right at the center," I said, turning to face him. He fingered a wayward strand near my temple then he pulled me in for a soft long kiss. If I could take his lips with me everywhere I went, I would.

We parted at the Crown Heights station, and his eyes chilled as soon as I pulled away from our final kiss. The heat in my chest shocked me as I descended down into the train station. I couldn't feel my toes when the train arrived. And sitting on the 3 train, I licked my lips repeatedly, needing to taste him. I squirmed in my seat remembering where his lips had been last night, hoping the memory would fill the emptiness, but all it did was make it worse.

I tried to read the reports from the authors but couldn't concentrate for the life of me. I would read them as soon as Kate assigned my desk. According to her email all those weeks ago, I would sit at the reception desk where she sat for my interview. I was so lost in my memories, I almost missed my stop at 42nd St. My shower with Edward on Sunday morning had been on instant replay for about ten minutes.

When I arrived at the security desk and the guard printed out my temporary ID, I had to slap myself back to the present, to reality. This was my life. My dream was about to come true, but I was busy thinking about a boy? What the fuck? No, that shit had to stop now. When I walked through the office door at the New Yorker, though, my memories of him were the only thing that maintained my sanity. Someone was sitting at the reception desk, the one that Kate had assigned to me for the next three months. With her hot-pink encased IPhone in hand, her shiny brown hair perfect in a stylish high bun, sat the last person I expected to be in that seat: Jessica Stanley.

"Bella!" Jessica jumped out of her chair, running up to me to give me a hug. "Oh my gosh! It's so good to see you!" She wore a white, low-cut minidress that clung to her curves like a dying man to his last breath. Maybe she was here to visit someone. Surely, she wouldn't dress like that on the first day as an intern.

Surely, she wasn't here as an intern.

Jessica pulled away, leaning on the desk behind her... my fucking desk.

"What-" I took a deep breath, chewing on my bottom lip, biting down the mix of confusion and rage. "Jessica?"

"Our first day of work, Bella!" She giggled, and I died. "Rephrase: not work... not yet, but soon. Our first day at The New Yorker. Aren't you excited?"

I felt my face boil and my lips twitch before forming a smile, more like a grimace or frown. I assumed I achieved a genuine enough smile as her delight didn't falter. Then again, this was Jessica Stanley.

"I can see you are," she said, confirming my assumption. I could be dying and she'd still be smiling. "We're gonna have so much fun together, Bella. This summer's gonna be amazing. We have to make every second count."

Just then, Kate walked in, a stack of manuscripts in her tiny arms. She was red all over, muttering something to herself when she saw Jessica and me. I hurried over to help her, one particularly thick manuscript about to topple over. She frowned at me, apologetic it seemed, then thanked me. Meanwhile, Jessica stood at the other side of the desk, texting someone as if Kate weren't there.

Kate laid the scripts on the desk, well, my desk. This couldn't be Jessica's desk for the next three months!

"Bella, welcome to The New Yorker. How have you been?" She flipped her hair over her shoulder, taking a deep breath.

"I'm great. My first day as an intern. I really couldn't ask for anything more. I guess... I don't really know what to say right now," I replied, my voice quiet.

"Alice told me she emailed you the assignment?" Kate asked too quickly. She walked around Jessica and me to turn on the computer on the reception desk, avoiding my pointed gaze. What the fuck was going on here? She was gonna act like all this shit was normal?

"You got an assignment from Alice? How? Why?" Jessica asked, looking up from her IPhone, her forehead scrunched up.

"Jessica, I'm gonna need you to hurry down to Starbucks and buy some coffee for Ms. Evanson. She likes a bold extra hot soy venti Americano with an extra shot of espresso."

"But-"

"She's going to be here in half an hour. If I don't see that drink on her desk in ten minutes, I'm sending you home."

"But- I thought Bella was going to be the gopher."

I raised my eyebrows at that but kept my eyes averted, silently stewing.

"You will be given your roles during orientation. For now, you're getting coffee. And, how nice for us, Bella, it's on Jessica this morning."

Jessica stopped, crossing her arms and wiggling her nose. Then, with a bemused look on her face, she headed out the door without another word.

"Um-"

"I know," Kate said, leaning against the desk with her shoulders slumped forward. "Esme sent me an email last week with this... news. Jessica's going to be an intern with you."

"You have got to be kidding-"

"Listen, Bella, this isn't the time to complain."

"My complaints aren't unfounded. You and I know she doesn't belong here."

"That decision was made. There's nothing you can do about it."

"Don't you think I deserve-"

Kate smirked, her dark eyes ablaze. "Deserve? You forget where you are. This isn't NYU or a little podunk town. I'm the one who has to deal with you two."

"I'm sorry, Kate, but I know this internship has never accepted two interns before. Why is she here?"

She stood up, towering over me in her leopard-print stilettos. "All you need to know right now is that your duties will be divided. She will be handling correspondence. You will do research. So, where are the reports Ms. Evanson assigned?" Kate looked down at me expectantly.

"Um... I..." I fumbled with the fastener on my satchel, my cheeks burning.

"'Um I'? Are they done or not?"

"Just about done. Um, I have one left. I'll get it to you by 3, like you said.."

"Really, Bella?" Kate said dryly. "Ms. Evanson needs it by 3, which means I need it by noon to write a final summary. You should have had it done."

"I..."

She pressed her lips together, crossing her arms again. "Look, I know this is your first day, but you should know how important first impressions are. This cannot happen again, Bella. Ms. Evanson will count this as a second strike."

"I can finish the final report by noon! I'll do it."

Kate smirked again, shifting her weight onto her right leg.

"Email me the first three now and finish up the last by noon. We will have a brief orientation at one, there's a staff meeting at 2:30, then you and I will meet at four to discuss the Festival in October."

"Okay...okay, where do I sit?"

Kate walked over to a desk crammed in the corner behind a couple of filing cabinets and the wall. With about fifteen feet separating me from my "bestie," I felt like I was on that deserted island in _Lost_, with that damn black cloud just over my shoulder.

Kate showed me the passwords for the IMac on the desk, then left me to the report. Macs weren't my forté, but I guess there was a first time for everything.

Checking my email, I saw a message from the author of the final manuscript, _The Yellow River_, telling me he was sorry but he would get it by 11:30 a.m. because he had a presentation at work. It was too close to call. So, after I emailed Kate the first three reports, I skimmed through the 400 pages and wrote a one-page summary. The entire time, Jessica would not stop yapping.

"I bet everyone in Evans's class is dying to be us, just _dying_."

Which wasn't bad, until she had the nerve to say, "But Kate is such a fucking cunt."

I had to stop writing the report when she said that. Kate was in the office adjacent to Jessica'a desk, and Jessica didn't whisper. I turned around in my seat to watch her stuff a galley in a FedEx box.

"It was just coffee, Jessica. Get over it."

"That was the last time she orders me around. I'll have her picking up coffee for me by the end of the week."

"Seriously?" _What was _wrong _with this girl_? "This isn't Tisch, Jessica. It's the real world. You can't always get what you want."

"True. But in the end, I always get what I deserve."

A call came in for Ms. Evanson, cutting our conversation short. Prior to that comment, I would have been ever so thankful to my Lord Jesus Christ for shutting her up, but I was suddenly curious. Just what did Jessica do to get her inappropriate, sycophantic ass in that seat over there? My fucking seat!

I struggled to concentrate on the final paragraph of the report, typing the period at fifteen minutes after twelve. I hit send, hyperventilating. _Fifteen __minutes after __twelve__? Was that my third strike? Two in one morning? This had to be a record. I should win a prize for it. _

Reading Kate's response to all four reports- a mere "Thanks"- I breathed a sigh of relief. I leaned back in my seat and shut my eyes. _What a morning_. Reaching into my bag for my cellphone, I hoped for a message from Edward. He didn't have much to do today. He had a meeting with a friend and the afternoon off. When the screen on my phone lit up, there were four messages:

_Edward: Hakuna Matata. What a wonderful phrase? Hakuna Matata. Ain't no passing craze. It means no worries for the rest of your days. It's our problem free philosophy Hakuna Matata. _

_9:13 a.m._

_Edward: miss you._

_9:30 a.m._

_Edward: Did you get the final report?_

_10:15 a.m._

_Edward: I guess you're busy. I'll see you later._

_11:58 a.m._

I replied with a brief text, my heart hammering in my chest, telling him I missed him more, and I couldn't wait to see him. I didn't want him out of my sight tonight. Being so busy helped keep me focused, but just the thought of him now made my mind spin.

There was a call from my mom and an email from Alice wishing me good luck and that we should hang out tonight. I told her maybe when all I really wanted was to be with Edward.

Heading over to the watercooler, which was next to Jessica's desk, of course, I had the honor of receiving advice from her royal rottenness.

"Y so serious? Relax, Bella," she said, while texting on her phone.

I drank my water with a nod and returned to my desk, silencing the vile thoughts I had of bashing in her many body parts. _Y so bloody, Jessica? Y ur brain matter on the wall, Jessica? Y R U here, Jessica?_

"I bet a monkey could do Kate's job."

"Hey, Kate's not that bad. Besides, she's in the room right next to you. She can hear everything."

"I don't give a fuck. I'm here and there's nothing she could do about it."

_What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

"What?"

"I'm saying I could tell Kate to go to hell and she can't do a thing. You want in on a little secret to getting what you want?" She got up from her seat and strutted my way as if she owned the place. "Blackmail."

I remembered Evans and Jessica arguing a few weeks ago, Evans warning her "not to come." And I remembered how shocked she was on the last day of class when he told her she'd failed. She had looked at him like that was the last thing that should have ever come out of his mouth.

She must have had something over Evans, something that would destroy his career, something that she could use to get whatever she wanted, no _deserved_.

It had been a fleeting thought, a joke, even. And yet, the idea I had had of them cavorting with each other rushed back to me in waves.

Jessica and Evans sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G.

Or worse. What if he _was _her pimp?

"Who did you blackmail? Mr. Evans?"

"Something like that."

I didn't have any more time to mull over this former "unnecessary" and current "very necessary" truth, as Kate walked into to begin orientation at 1.

We learned a little bit more about the Festival in October, or as Kate called it, "TNYF," Jessica brown-nosing the entire time.

During the staff meeting, Jessica interrupted the editors with dozens of questions. Although valid, they were very disruptive. I thought Ms. Evanson would be as irritated as the rest of us, but she had this glint in her eye with every question. She seemed impressed.

The meeting ended at four, leaving me dizzy with envy. Homicidal thoughts tore through me. I wanted to rip Jessica's lips off and burn her notes. I wanted to be praised. I wanted Ms. Evanson to look at me like that. Why hadn't I prepared for the meeting?

Oh, right. Edward.

I sat at my desk, the TNYF project, daunting as hell, in front of me on my desk. How the hell would I have time to research over one hundred authors in the next three months? About half weren't even American, a quarter were Arabic, which I knew about as much of as I knew about baseball.

I bet Jessica knew some. She seemed to know everything else.

"Bella," I heard Kate call out from Ms. Evanson's office. "Can I see you for a moment?"

"I'll... I'll be right there."

I got up, feeling Jessica's eyes on me the entire time, wanting to tear her eyes out. I didn't know why she looked so jealous. I wasn't the one who blackmailed a professor into getting an internship I didn't deserve.

I quickened my step as I passed Kate's office, as tiny as a closet and so messy. There were so many manuscripts, I couldn't take a step inside without knocking a couple dozen of them over.

Ms. Evanson's office was a couple of doors down, the door left open a crack. I knocked and Kate called me in.

"Have a seat," she said. "And take a deep breath. You've done nothing wrong."

I let out a breath I didn't know I held and gulped in some of this sweet Editor in Chief air.

"Where's Ms. Evanson?"

"At a meeting."

I pouted at that, catching something like pity flash across Kate's eyes. It was gone as fast as my pout, which I regretted. I wasn't a child.

She continued, "So, what did you think of the first day?"

"Well, it could have been better... considering."

"I know. I know."

"I just don't understand..."

"I didn't either. But just know that I've been where you've been. I've seen girls like her think they're God's gift. They get to where they are using the most underhanded methods," she said, her eyes boring into mine. Was she trying to say she thought Jessica was a slut, too? Nice. I wondered what Ms. Evanson thought as Kate continued. "I've seen them become editors of so many magazines who have as much foresight as Sarah Palin. Don't let her get to you."

I nodded, smoothing out my skirt, looking down at the floor. Easier said than done, but I couldn't tell her that. She wouldn't want to hear my excuses.

"Do _you_, Bella, and everything else will fall into place."

Kate told me the reports I'd done were good, although the next one for TNYF had to be written more succinctly. One page was too long, apparently. When she said my style was all over the place with a soft humor in her voice, a mix of that self-loathing and envy returned to me. Jessica would have had this done, wouldn't she?

"Bella, don't worry about it, really. It's only the first day. You'll be fine."

"But..." I bit my bottom lip in frustration. "Two strikes, Kate."

"That's right. Not three."

We went over tomorrow's plan, then she told me I was done for the day.

"Kate?" I said at the door. She looked up from Ms. Evanson's monitor.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

She smiled and waved me off. Evans had warned me about how tough she supposedly was, but Kate was a good person. And she saw right through Jessica's means. If I floundered, she would help me... hopefully... maybe. At least she wouldn't laugh at me.

As I crossed the threshold, I saw a familiar set of long jean-clad legs and Black Nikes stretched out from behind the reception desk. Goosebumps raced down my arms and legs. My cheeks and neck grew hot.

Edward.

He leaned forward in his seat to pick up a magazine, his long fingers flipping through the pages. I had to stop walking, leaning against the wall to catch my breath.

_Wow. This is how it would be every time? I can't do this._

"You look so familiar. I swear I've seen you somewhere." I heard Jessica say to him. I watched her twirl a red pen between her fingers, the wall blocking me from her face. By the sound of her obvious flirting, she might have been biting her lip or something else as foolish.

_Edward wouldn't be interested._

"Maybe... Did you read The Times last weekend?"

"I did but... Hey, you're the guy with the skull! Like Hamlet."

"Yeah." Edward said.

"It's the hair! That's what reminded me. It's gorgeous."

Edward laughed, crossing his legs. "I know. What did you think of the interview?"

_Was he seriously having a conversation with this bitch?_

"I don't know. I didn't read it. I was too busy staring at your picture."

_That fucking bitch!_

Edward laughed again, and I swear I could have punched a hole through the wall. I couldn't wait for him to reply to that. Hurrying their way, I swallowed my contempt. Soon enough, Edward stopped flipping through the magazine. He leaned forward, turning quickly in his seat to face me.

"Bella," he whispered, the back of his ears and his cheeks reddening. I squeezed my thighs together. His eyes darkened by the second.

_Keep looking at me like that, mister, and I'll forget how friendly you were towards the two-faced bitch._

"You're here early," I said, clearing my throat.

He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His hair was a mess, a beautiful mess, and his dark gray t-shirt showed every muscle off... all for Jessica to ogle and wish she had.

"Couldn't wait to see you." He biting his upper lip as I joined him. "Hey." He kissed my forehead, hugging me. I patted him on his back a couple times.

"Hey."

"Bella, where have you been hiding this man? Edward Cullen. Tell me he has a friend!"

_Cocksucking, filthy cunt..._

"I haven't been hiding anywhere," Edward replied before I could tell her none of his friends would want to be infected by her rotten pussy. His lips pressed against my temple. Then, he stepped back, holding me an arm's length away, looking over my shoulder at her. "And none of my friends would know how to treat someone as pretty as you."

_He was trying to drive me insane, I see._ I yanked my arms out from his. _Where does he get off?_

"You'll be coming around... again," Jessica said, breathlessly. "Tomorrow?" she added quickly.

I pinched Edward's waist, causing him to raise his left eyebrow. I cocked my own. _What did he think he was doing__, __flirting in front of me like this? And with _her_?_

I walked over to my desk, legs like jelly, fists at my side like a child, picking up my satchel and the tablet. The tingles steadily intensified with each step, flying up my throat and down my thighs. I was a ball of nerves and desire. I had to get out while I still had the sliver of composure I had left.

"Edward has a lot of things going on this summer," I said shakily, taking deep breaths. "This might be the last time you see him."

He raised his left eyebrow again, smirking. "Bella's right," he said, thankfully cooperating with my lie, "I do have a lot going on." _Good boy._ "But you may see me sooner than you think."

"So effing polite," I said under my breath before rejoining them.

Edward leaned against the door jam, his eyes dancing, a playful smirk on his lips. He must have heard me. Judging by Jessica's response, she didn't.

"Good. This place needs more beauty in it. Well, besides me... oh, and Bella, of course."

"Of course," my dry response. "Let's go, Edward."

He nodded, pulling my satchel off my back, and taking the tablet from me.

"You don't have to-" I started, under my breath.

"I want to." His eyes were kind as he tugged my shirt sleeve. Then, while keeping my gaze he said, "It was nice meeting you, Jessica."

"It was nice to meet you, too."

Shutting the door behind me, I spotted Jessica's eyes following us. She looked like she had found her second Mike Newton. _Tough luck trying this time, bitch. _

I followed him to the elevator, mired by my disgust for her. I felt my cheeks heat up, watching Edward's easy strut. Everything was so fucking easy.

"Hey, you hungry?"

_Really, Edward? That's all you have to say? Really? _

"Not in the mood for a meal, no. I think I've had enough bullshit for today."

"Bella?" He turned around to face me when we arrived at the elevators. "What's wrong?"

_She looked like she wanted to suck your cock right in front of me, and you were egging her on. That's what's fucking wrong._

He sidled up to me, kissing my cheek. My body responded immediately, opening up to him as if it had a mind of its own. And when he stroked my cheeks, I sighed. But my mind whirred, hurt and confused.

"Bella, come on, hey. You look like you want to kick something."

"I'm fine. Let's go... let's have dinner or whatever," I said, sniffling. I leaned my cheek into his hands.

"I wanted to pick up dinner but we can order in, instead. You've had a long day."

"No," I said, pulling his hands down from my face. "I'm fine." I took a deep breath. "Really. Where did you want to go?" _Jessica's place?_

"Do you like spicy food?" he asked, leading me into the elevator. _Could he not see why I was incensed? Did I need a sign on my forehead?_

"Depends how hot it is. If my tongue falls off, shriveled up like a habañero pepper, then, no, I don't," I said, averting my gaze. I couldn't look into his green eyes and see the ease.

"Okay... Did I do something?"

"No, nothing. You're perfect."

"Bella..."

"Where are we eating? What's the place called?"

"Spice. I promise, it'll be the best curry chicken and vegetable dumplings you will ever have in your life."

"Good. Can't wait."

We walked to the train station, hand in hand, my funk a dark cloud over us. Edward changed the subject to what he did today. He had found out something surprising this morning.

While emailing the students who were supposed to attend his workshop on Saturday, he found out someone notified them of a cancellation.

"Jane?" I asked.

"Yeah, Jane."

"What are you gonna do?" We stopped at the light, waiting for it to change.

"I rescheduled it for Friday morning," he said, tapping the tablet against his right thigh.

"No, I mean what are you gonna do about Jane?"

Edward shook his head. "There's nothing to do. She doesn't matter to me anymore." We descended into the station, only a couple of people ahead of us at the turnstiles when I got this odd sense of déja vu.

"Edward, that was sabotage. What if she does it again?"

"She won't." He said the same thing last time at the park, when he swore she would leave us alone, yet here he was a victim of her jealousy. Why wouldn't he at least try to handle this? He was acting like it wasn't a big deal when it was.

"You said that on Saturday, that she would leave you alone. You've gotta tell her to stop this." I crossed the turnstile. That was when this wave of nostalgia came over me.

This was the Times Square station where we first kissed. Memories of the starchiness of his mint shirt in my hands, his chocolate and cigarettes, and his lip-numbing kisses returned to me. Memories of our fight returned, too. It took my breath away. I turned back, staring at Edward to see if this place had the same impact on him.

"I do."

It did.

Edward's arm tightened around my waist when I looked up at him. His eyes were just as nostalgic as mine.

We approached a location that had looked so different, yet so similar to the last time we were here. The escalator was still out of service, but the florescent lights were on. Every crack and crevice in the granite walls were illuminated. It seemed like the escalator hadn't been the only thing that needed repair.

So many things had changed for us since that day, but some remained the same. I got the sense he felt the same way. I was his, truly his, and he was mine. He wouldn't leave for another woman, blond or brunette. Yet, he was still an enigma to me. I wanted so badly to forget everything about Jessica and why he openly flirted with her. I wanted to revel in his scent, in his cigarettes, but I couldn't.

"I missed you today," he murmured into my ear.

"Me too."

"Jane will leave me alone. Don't sweat it. What happened with the report and everything at The New Yorker?" He kissed my temple, wrapping his arms around me for a hug.

"It was hell," I said into his chest. "All day, I've been playing catch up. I don't know how I'll make it through tomorrow."

"You will. You know why?"

I pulled away, looking up at him and shaking my head.

" 'Cause you got me." He smiled down at me, and I forced a smile back. His brash reply was like a cool glass of milk on my frazzled nerves, yet not as effective as I would have hoped.

"You're so fucking cocky," I whispered, holding my tears in. I knew he wasn't, though, not really.

"You know you like it," he said, kissing my cheek. "You can't live without it... or me."

As the local train arrived at the station and he pulled me into the crowded car, I silently agreed with him.

We got off the first train at 23rd St., Edward excited for some Thai food which I had never had. He raved about this restaurant, Spice, and how hot the curry was. _It was hotter than I was_, he said, a grin playing on his lips. I forced the same smile and told him I would have the dumplings instead.

We walked into the restaurant, our tiny Asian hostess grabbing a couple of worn black menus. Abruptly, Edward stopped her.

"I know what I want," he said, politely. "We're ordering to go, thank you." He handed back the menus, taking my hand again. I turned to face him.

"We don't have to go. I'm fine. We can eat here."

He ordered the curry and the dumplings, the hostess hurrying away without thanking us.

Edward smiled. "I hate eating out." Then, he leaned into my ear. "I'd rather eat dinner with you, naked, in bed..."

My cheeks were hot, goosebumps flying down my arms, as he whispered other things he wanted to do to me.

"Um, I don't think it's healthy to do that position right after a meal."

"Not the way I do it."

"I thought you said Jane never let you do any of that stuff?"

"Let's just say I had a lot of fun freshman year of college."

He was working the funk out of my system very well.

"Maybe we should watch a movie afterwards."

"Okay... but I get to pick."

"But... you don't even know what movies I have."

"Actually I do, remember? You have all the ones I like."

"Ass."

"What? I can't help it. I have good taste."

"What exactly did you want to see? The Lion King?" I asked, giggling.

"No, something a bit more... stimulating."

"I don't have porn, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, I doubt that, but that's not what I want to watch, anyway."

"Alright, so what?"

"Requiem for a Dream."

I gaped, tilting my head to the right, giving him the once over.

"You're stimulated by that? I feel like gagging each time. In fact, maybe we should skip dinner." I grimaced. The memory of a red-haired, heroin-addicted Ellen Burstyn was enough to make my stomach churn. How watching a film that I had found to be more disturbing than any film Eli Roth could produce could be sexually stimulating was beyond me. The more Edward spoke, though, the more I realized how little of the film we would actually get to see.

"Are you planning on doing all of that before or after dinner?" I asked him when a pudgy waiter came back with our food in a fancy Spice bag.

He shrugged, taking the bag from the waiter. "There's a lot to eat tonight. Either way, I'll be satisfied."

"Oh gosh." I blushed as we stepped outside into the balmy summer evening.

The horizon was lavender and peach and a fiery red. Right before we entered the subway, the heat beating down on me like a whip, I took a breath, trying to cool down. _Edward is trying his best to cheer me up. He was with me, not with Jessica. Don't fuck this up. Don't chase him away. This will be the best summer of your life. And no matter what, Edward will be there for you. He won't leave. He won't leave._

**A/N: So sorry for the wait y'all. I had a lot to cover. **

**Bye. :)**


	19. Chapter 17 Compromise

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 17- Compromise**

**May 22, 2010**

On the way to my apartment, Edward suggested sitting in _his _bed, naked, watching _his _copy of _Requiem for a Dream, _and waking up tomorrow under _his _covers, but I had to tell him no. I wanted so badly to see his place, find out more about who he was. Was he messy? Did he have a roommate? Would there be more clues about the Paradise Theater?

Were there remnants of Jane still there?

But I couldn't see his apartment tonight.

"I have to go to work early tomorrow. I would need some clothing, wouldn't I?"

We were on the 4 train, slowing down at the Atlantic Ave. stop in Brooklyn when he said, laughing, "Oh, clothes. Who needs clothes? Your friend barely wore any."

_My friend?_

"She is _not _my friend. I fucking hate that bitch."

Edward cocked an eyebrow. "So, she's the reason why you're in a bad mood."

"Fuck! Forget it. I don't want to talk about her, okay?" I grabbed the tablet, taking it from his hands and turning it on. Edward covered the screen.

"No, I won't forget it." He stroked my cheek with his forefinger. "So, she's it, right? She's why you're so sore tonight? Well," he said under his breath, "besides me?"

"Edward." I rolled my eyes. I was not about to spill my guts to a guy who compared my fury towards Jessica to how sensitive I had been down there all day. "Please move your hand."

That was when he snatched the tablet from me.

"Edward, come on."

"What's so wrong with her? She seemed perfectly fine to me."

"She's not."

"Why not?"

"You don't have to concern yourself with that. Just stay away."

"Why? Did she do something to you?" he asked quietly, shutting the tablet off.

I shook my head. "I can't talk about Jessica, Edward."

"Relax." His eyes were soft, now. "Maybe talking about this will help?"_ Oh, the irony._

"Says the guy who wouldn't talk about the bitch in his life."

"Look, I want to help. I thought you chicks liked that sensitive shit?"

"Fuck you," I said too loudly. The older woman sitting to my right gave me a wicked eye. I whispered the rest. "I'm not some chick! And neither is she! I'm tired, okay? I'm not doing this 'sensitive' thing with you tonight."

"Bella-"

"Come on, this is my stop," I said, rising from the seat and walking to the doors.

The walk to my apartment was another quiet one. I took the tablet back from him as we climbed the stairs.

"I'm sorry I called you a chick," he said when we reached my floor.

"May that word never come out of your mouth again." I was trying to be flippant, but I meant it. I hated the word. Might as well call me a two-cent ho.

"It won't. Promise."

My cell phone rang when we reached the door, Jacob's wails echoing down the hallway. Edward raised an eyebrow as the chorus ended. _What was _that _look?_

"Hi, Alice."

"Bella, how was Esme today? Was she scary? Did you tear all of your hair out?"

I opened the door, letting Edward by, a curse flying from his mouth before he complained of the oppressive stuffiness inside my apartment. I must have forgotten to open the windows before I left. He went into the kitchen, opening my microwave, cursing again. Like a symphony, I swear to God.

"She was in meetings all day. I barely saw her."

"Lucky bitch. Why do you sound sad about that? The less you see her, the more sane you'll be."

"Alice!"

"I heard that bitch, Jessica, was there, too." She sounded so bitter... even more bitter than I did.

I kicked my shoes off and headed to the kitchen. Edward stood in front of the fridge, behind the door, bent over so I couldn't see his face.

"She was," I sighed, noticing something on the floor behind him. "I bet I know why, too. It has to do with Evans."

"You think so?" Alice asked, clucking her tongue. "I bet it was her dad. He and Esme are close."

"What? But he's a right-wing conservative douche. I thought your mom was a liberal." I stared hard at the floor. It was Edward's shirt. He was _that _hot? I shook my head.

"She is. They get along for some weird reason. Hey, let's hang out tonight. A small group of my friends are meeting in LES at a hookah bar. Come meet us."

That was when Edward stood up with a couple of water bottles in his hands... shirtless.

"Fuck." I gulped.

"Hang up," he said over his shoulder, rolling the bottle up and down the back of his neck. His eyes blazed, the condensation from the water dripped down his shoulder blades to the curve of his back. _Mmmm... I will lick later._

"Bella, what is it?" Alice asked.

"Something just came up. Um..."

"Oh. Well, can you make it later? We'll be here all night."

Alice was loud enough for Edward to hear and he shook his head, no, at her request. I wholeheartedly agreed with him.

"Maybe. Have fun." I hung up, watching him place the same bottle on my neck, across my cheek and lips before I took it from him. His eyes roamed my body.

"Alice?" He asked.

I nodded, downing the water, watching him as he closed the fridge. Then, he unbuttoned his jeans and dropped them to the floor. _Well__, __fuck me! Would he be like this every time we came here? I'll keep the windows closed all day, everyday._

"What did she want?"

"To go out. Clearly, I have better things to do with you tonight."

"Do... Maybe suck and blow as well?"

"I do that only for men who don't call me 'chick'," I said, laughing.

Edward nodded, taking the bottle from me and drinking the rest of the water. "Get that AC on and start the movie. I'll get dinner ready." He leaned in and kissed my lips. "It's too damn hot in here for any more talk of sucking and blowing."

I hurried to my bedroom, which was hotter than the living room. I flipped on the AC, the scent of his cigarettes from yesterday still heavy in the air. I shut my eyes, remembering how his lips curled around his cigarettes yesterday afternoon after we made love for the third time. My bed was a mess. My sheets and blankets were on the floor. I pulled them back on, fluffing my pillows. I couldn't wait to mess up this bed again tonight.

While searching through my DVD section, I pulled off my skirt and top, feeling icky all over and sweat-stained. I found it, standing up and popping it into my DVD player.

"Come here before the food gets cold again." Edward shuffled in and hopped on my bed, sitting against the headboard. I hit play on my remote, but didn't follow him to the bed.

"I need a shower. I'll join you in a sec."

"Bella, no. I want you here." The red and blue colors from the screen flashed across his face, his eyes dark violet then black.

I shook my head, my thighs sticking together from the sweat. "Two minutes."

He groaned, pausing the film. "I'm going in there if you take longer."

"That wouldn't be so bad." I pulled off my bra, backing away into the bathroom. "Edward."

He jumped out of bed and followed me inside.

Our shower must have lasted at least twenty minutes. There was a lot of doing, sucking, and blowing. We had to reheat our dinner again, and Edward was right. They were the best dumplings of my life.

We watched the film, my head on Edward's lap, his fingers in my hair, soothing me. Towards the end, Edward told me he related to Sara, Ellen Burstyn's character, the most, just like I did.

"She had unwittingly entered an environment that destroyed her, and no one was there to help her," I said. "The others knew what they were doing, and they were selfish. She just wanted to be with her son."

He nodded, agreeing with me. He did that a lot, agree with me that is, especially about my insight on the film. If only he would agree with me about Jessica.

"You wouldn't do anything like that for drugs, would you?" he asked, referring to Marion's sex scene. I became drowsy from his scalp massage. He had pulled my hair so hard in the shower, too hard. And having sex with my legs wrapped around his back for twenty minutes made my thighs more sore than they already were. I should probably wear flats tomorrow...

"No." I yawned. "And I've never taken drugs in my life."

"Never?" He furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at me, and I looked up at him, giggling.

"They just don't appeal to me. Being the daughter of a cop was a major deterrent. Besides, I think this film scared me straight."

He didn't reply to that, remaining silent until I asked, "Have you?"

"Have I what?" he asked, stroking my chin and jaw.

"Have you experimented?"

"In high school, but nothing serious. I think this movie scared me straight, too." There was a chill in his voice that I didn't like. It sounded more serious than he was letting on.

He wouldn't look me in the eye, asking me another question that made the tips of his ears red.

"Would you experiment with another girl, just for fun?"

"No. I'm not like that." I raised my knees, blushing in spite of myself. He drew circles over my heated cheeks with his thumbs. "You've thought of that this entire time, haven't you?" I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe... That scene at the end is hot. Emmett and I had it memorized."

"Gross. That was the lowest point of her character."

"Bella, we had never seen anything like that before. The girls in L.A. did crazy shit, but not that. Emmett said his girlfriend wouldn't do anything more than kiss a girl."

"Is Emmett your older brother?" I think I saw some photos of them together in his Facebook album.

"Mmm hmm."

"He showed you a lot of shit, didn't he? Shit real girls never do."

"More than I care to remember," he said shuddering but with a smile on his face.

"You're lucky. I'm an only child. I wish I had siblings growing up." I stood up and stretched, turning off the TV.

"You're close to that Jacob guy, right? That counts." His voice was forcefully light. When I faced him, he had his hands behind his head, his eyes liquid, as if his mood were about to change any moment.

"I am. He would be the closest thing to a brother I could have..." I climbed into the bed, but didn't lie down next to him. Instead, I sat at the foot of the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck. _Oh boy._ "He's a great guy."

"He's on your ringtone singing, isn't he?"

"Who? Jake?"

"Jake..." he said with an edge in his voice.

"How did you know he sang?" I pulled the sheets up over my chest.

"Facebook," he said. "He's a great singer," he said sardonically.

I gulped, my heartbeat hammering in my chest. That familiar feeling of being exposed and violated. _Why did I have to put every single part of my life in a status update?_

"You look guilty of something," Edward said, dropping his arms to the side. "Anything I should know about going on between you two?"

I remembered his jealousy over my relationship with Jacob when we bumped into each other at the Times Square train station; Edward thought Jacob and I were dating.

"Jacob has a girlfriend. I told you."

"That won't stop him," Edward said under his breath.

"Edward, we've been best friends since high school. He's like my brother."

"He's a man. He's never gonna be just friends with you."

"Edward, this is-"

"Change the ringtone."

"Oh, please. I'm not gonna do that just because you feel insecure over nothing."

"You won't change it?" He crossed his arms.

"This is ridiculous. He's my friend. He's not even on the same side of the country. You have nothing to worry about."

"You're saying you won't do this for me yet you expect me to stay away from Jessica?"

"That isn't the same thing! Fuck!" I slammed my hand onto the mattress. "Jessica's the fucking devil as far as I'm concerned." _Shit! Here I go__, __waving my neuroses._

"It is. You're jealous. You become infuriated every time she comes up."

"Really? Of a slut who slept her way into an internship that was mine!" _How dare he pigeonhole me!_ My issues with Jessica went far beyond pettiness, like a fucking song on my cellphone.

Edward sighed. "And how do you know that?"

"There was only supposed to be one position available. One! And how else could she be there if she failed Evans's class?"

"Who's Evans?"

"Our professor. Look, she blackmailed him, I know it!"

"How? Do you have proof?"

"Quit playing devil's advocate. She wanted to be an intern more than I did. And God save me, the only thing Jessica loves more than herself is being a fucking thorn in my side. She has since freshman year. You can't begin to fathom the hell I've been through because of her."

"Who gives a fuck what she did, Bella?" He scooted over to me, grabbing my fists and opening them up. "Why do you let her get to you?" he asked quietly.

"Why are you acting like nothing I say matters? I'm asking one thing of you and you won't listen!" _Fabulous. I sounded like a fucking banshee, again! Very sexy, Swan. _I took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

"Just as you won't," he replied, staring at my cellphone on the nightstand.

"You're saying if I change my ringtone, you'll ignore that cocksucker?"

"It's called compromise, Bella."

"Fuckin' A! Jacob's my best friend. I'm not gonna... And she means nothing to you," I said, yanking my hands out of his and forming fists once more. "Why the fuck can't you drop her?"

"Okay," he said, pushing the sheets off of his lap, getting out of bed. He pulled on his black boxer briefs, then picked up the carton of cigarettes and matches he had on the nightstand. "Two reasons. One..." He peered down at me with an unwavering gaze. "I need you to understand that when I ask you to talk, I want you to talk."

I snorted.

"I know I don't tell you everything..."

"You're like fucking Fort Knox."

"But I just had to get you to open up," he said, continuing as if I hadn't interrupted him. I threw a pillow at him, which he caught and held at his chest. "You were so upset. If it's because of something I did, I want you to tell me. Don't give me the silent treatment."

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. "So, you're telling me you brought Jacob up just to get me to talk about Satan's spawn?"

"Sort of," he said, dangling a cigarette between his lips. "Change your ringtone."

"Edward, come on."

"Bella," he flung the carton on the nightstand with a half smile on his face. "I'm serious. Do it."

"Mmm hmm, okay. So, what was the second reason why you wont drop Jessica?"

He glanced at me, then at the floor, averting his gaze. He lit his cigarette, and I inhaled it deeply. It smelled too good. "You've gotta understand, I'm just talking to her. You don't have to feel this way, so worried." He became introspective. "But dropping her is something I can't do."

"Bullshit. You don't _want _to drop her. Why?"

"You don't understand. She knows a lot of people. In those ten minutes we spoke, she said her mom was close friends with David Mamet. Do you know what that kind of connection would do for me?"

_Connections. Ugh. Did he have to use that word?_

"Jessica is the last person you should _connect_ with. She'll want something in return. She'll make your life a living hell."

"I can handle people like her," he said, dropping his ashes onto a plate already piled with ashes from yesterday. _Of course he would say that. Of course he could handle anything._

"It's not like her mom is the only person who knows David Mamet or any other playwright on Broadway. You can network with dozens of other girls who aren't the reincarnation of Adolf Hitler!"

Edward cocked his eyebrow and grinned. "Impossible. All of you chicks- I mean-"

"You might want to try that again," I said, laughing.

"I have to network with everyone I meet right now," he said in a matter of fact way. "Even Satan's spawn, as you put it."

"Well..." I bit my lip. "What if I knew someone?" Alice was a much better _contact_ than Jessica Stanley. She would help him without demanding anything from him.

"Who?"

"One day you'll meet her... if you quit kissing Jessica's ass and be good."

He took a final drag, squishing the butt of the cigarette onto the plate. Now, my room smelled of Edward Cullen, and I was dizzy with ecstacy. "I'm always good. You said so yourself all day yesterday," he said, hopping in next to me. He sat Indian style.

"Cocky motherfucker."

He kissed my cheek, laughing again. "Alright, who's the lucky girl who gets to meet _Edward Cullen_?" he asked, mimicking Jessica's swoon from earlier.

"Someone you already know. Alice."

Edward coughed a laugh. Then, he paused and leaned back against the headboard.

"So Esme will help me out?"

"Yes."

Edward grimaced, playing with the tips of my hair, then said, "I don't think involving Alice is the best thing right now."

I scratched my head. "What? Why?"

"You just... can't trust her, Bella. Trust me." The viridian returned.

"What are you talking about? You haven't seen her in years. She's not the same person."

He just shook his head, and I found myself at the onset of another argument with him. _Jesus Christ, this man! Maybe it was the Thai food._

"That... arrangement didn't end in the best of terms, you know?" he asked more like a statement. "Esme probably doesn't even remember me. She marries often and has a long list of stepchildren."

"She knows me, though. She likes me."

"Bella, you really don't have to do this. It's kind of unnecessary. I network well enough on my own."

"Oh, right, I've seen that firsthand. You pick your connections wisely," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Alice is no better."

"Jessica's rotten to the core. Hannibal Lecter wouldn't even eat that bitch."

Edward shook his head. "Alice isn't who you think she is. It's been a while since the annulment, but I doubt she's changed."

"She's the one who helped me prepare for the internship. She bought a tablet for me, too. She didn't have to do that. I don't know who she was before, but she's cool now."

"What if you're assuming the same things about Jessica?"

"Nope, I'm not. There's a big difference. Alice doesn't have cloved feet in her Louboutins."

Edward laughed that hearty, deep laugh I couldn't get enough of. When he quieted down, he went on about Alice, anyway.

"Just keep your eyes open."

I nodded, but didn't take him seriously. Whatever Alice might do wouldn't kill me. He wouldn't even tell me what she did, so why would I stop being friends with her? Unless she killed a baby or pillaged a town, I'd be cordial with her. She was Ms. Evanson's daughter, after all. Talk about an important connection.

Jessica was another story for Edward. She would ruin him if they got any closer. Who knew where Mike Newton was these days? Probably dead in a ditch after driving off the road to get away from that psychotic bitch.

Edward agreed that he would act like he had never met Jessica. He was so keen on resolving this before bed. I had never known a guy to do that. My dad never did, that was for sure.

I told him I would keep my ringtone, though. Fuck that! Jacob was my friend. When Jake came back in September, Edward would see how great he was. And he would see how much Leah had him wrapped around her little finger. Jacob wasn't a threat.

With all the lights off a few minutes later, we cuddled while Edward smoked another cigarette. I breathed him in.

"Those smell so good. Have I told you that?"

"No. Usually... I think you're the only one I know who likes it."

"Let me have one," I asked him, propping myself up on his chest.

"Bella..."

"Just to taste."

He shook his head and took a drag. And as he exhaled, I shimmied up his chest and brought my lips to his for a better taste of him. His tongue was sour and so bitter and dry, but perfect. Still, it wasn't enough. I wanted to taste him all the time.

"Gimme one." I moaned. When I pulled away, his right hand slid down my throat to my breasts. "Give me yours."

He licked his bottom lip, suddenly worried. He squished the half-smoked cigarette on the plate.

"Edward." I pouted then sat up, letting the sheets fall away from my body, enjoying him ogle my hard nipples. I straddled him.

"I don't want you to start, okay? This isn't good for you." He sat up.

"Secondhand smoke is no better," I whispered in his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed his earlobe.

"I'll stop, then... I need you to be healthy," he whispered, running his thumb down my spine.

"You're healthier than I am." I moaned, holding his shoulders, loving the feel of his hands caressing my ass.

"For now." He stopped caressing, pulling away from my hug to look into my eyes, "I'm in this for the long haul. So, I'm gonna stop. I want to wake up and see you, and keep seeing you."

"Edward, they're just cigarettes. This isn't heroin or prescription shit. This isn't the movie. I'm not going to end up in some psych ward like Sara or a prostitute like Marion."

But he was deadly serious when he said. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you, Bella. I don't know what I would do."

He was so serious, I realized this had to deal with more than just me or the movie.

"Is this about your mom? Did she end up like Sara or the others?"

He shut his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine, remaining silent. Then, he opened his eyes, shiny and liquid, about to change at any moment. He blinked, the corners of his eyes wet.

"I'll stop tonight, okay? I won't do this again. You can't change. You must stay with me."

"I will," I said, keeping my tears at bay, my voice shaking, "forever."

His eyes showed a love I had never seen from a man before. It was desperate and deep and infinite. I wanted this forever. I wanted him forever.

I had so much to learn about him. And whatever there was to learn could be bad, but I didn't care. His pettiness and possessiveness was his way of showing how much he cared. And he still kept some things from me, but it was to protect me. It was for good reason.

I wanted every morning to be like this one, with my body aching and my dreams of drowning in green pools coming to life when I gazed into his eyes. I wanted every night to be like this, with his touch warm on my skin, the scent of him all-encompassing, his deep voice like home. And his eyes would be the last thing I would see at night, bringing forth more dreams of deep green pools in which I would lose myself.

In his eyes, this forever was as true as mine. I couldn't believe things could get more intense than they were before, but in this moment, our forever was as potent as fire and as significant as love. And we didn't say that we both felt this, this love. It was too soon to say. Two days together wasn't enough to make the declaration. But I wanted to spend the entire summer showing him exactly how much I did love him.

* * *

**A/N:**

**LES: Lower East Side**

**Bye :)**


	20. Chapter 18 Beethoven

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 18- Beethoven**

**June 5, 2010**

"Bella!" Alice ran up to me in front of the Thai restaurant on Union Square, hugging me tight around the waist as if we hadn't seen each other in thirty years.

"Hi, Alice," I said, patting her on her back. I tried pulling away, but she held on tighter. "This is not embarrassing at all."

"Oh! I'm sorry," she squeaked, then backed off. "Sorry. Let's go inside. I've never been here before. I'm so excited!"

I let her walk ahead of me, blushing furiously. I chose this place because I had grown to fall in love with Thai food. And I had fallen in love with Thai food because of Edward, the guy who didn't want me seeing her. I hoped Alice would love it as much as I did. It was all I could eat over the last couple of weeks.

We were seated and took our jackets off. Today was the first rainy, cool day in June, and I loved it. The humidity had finally lifted and we were all able to breathe again.

I hung my umbrella over the back of my chair and turned back to face Alice, who eyed me up and down.

"Beethoven, huh?" she asked.

I glanced down at the ratty gray t-shirt I wore, Edward's shirt, with Beethoven's famous scowl in the middle. A couple days ago, it had sparked a long conversation about his musical inclinations and how much "better" his music was compared to Jacob's. It went on for hours, until we went to bed. He just wouldn't let it go.

"Yeah. He's cool." As I picked at the collar of the shirt, Edward's scent rose as it rustled over my body. His Irish Spring so sweet. "I just got into him recently."

"He's alright, I guess." She picked up her menu, flipping through it until she got to the back. Then, she started on the first page again. "Gosh, when I was in high school, I used to hear him all the time. One of my ex-step brothers was some sort of virtuoso. He could play most of Beethoven's sonatas from memory. It was kind of weird, but cool at the same time, ya know?"

I cleared my throat. "Mmm hmm. I sorta know... Well, I know someone who can do that, too." I had found out Edward was a pianist only last night. Why he would keep this great talent to himself made no sense to me. It should have been all over the internet, at least.

Alice lowered the menu, calling the waiter over. He placed a metal teapot on the table, along with a couple of caramel-colored tea cups. "Whoever you know couldn't compare to Edward Cullen. He was like a machine."

I coughed, shifting in my seat. "Wow, that's insane."

"Are you ready to order?" The cheerful waiter asked in a thick Chinese accent. _Oh, the irony._

Alice nodded, ordering some noodles. I had my usual: vegetable dumplings. He collected the menus, hurrying away.

"Isn't it? I was a pretty good musician. I played violin. But I was nothing like Edward. So, do you play any instruments?"

"No. I wish. I never had any interest in learning. My best friend is the musician."

"Oh... Well, what's your favorite period? I love the early 20th Century. Maurice Ravel's melodies were so beautiful."

"Beethoven is really the only composer I've gotten to know... My boyfriend introduced me to him a couple of days ago."

My cell phone rang, then. I had a new ringtone, courtesy of Edward. The cheerful melody tickled the air. I reached into the pocket of my jacket and saw it was a call from Jacob. I hit "Decline."

"Sorry about that."

"That's alright. So," Alice said, unfolding her napkin and spreading it over her lap. "You just got into Beethoven but your ringtone is the second movement of Beethoven's 14th Piano Sonata? Not too many people are familiar with it."

"Well, here's what happened..." I spent a couple minutes telling Alice about the ringtone fiasco. She looked at me like I was crazy the entire time, pausing when the waiter refilled our teapot, then piping up.

"Does he have a cock that spins like a Rabbit or something? Why are you with this guy? He sounds like a nightmare."

"He's not. He's really cool. We don't fight about much else. He's just being insecure and jealous over stupid shit. He'll get over it." I poured myself some tea. "Want some more?"

"Sure, thanks." She rested her chin on her hands. "Why did you change the ringtone, then?"

"This piece means a lot to him..." I poured the tea to the brim, lowering the hot teapot on the table. "And I didn't want to hurt his feelings. It would have been cruel to keep Jacob's."

"Jacob's your friend, though, right? You've known him longer than this weirdo. I would have kept it."

"It's not a big deal. Jacob doesn't even live here. He's back in Forks working on his album. It's not as if I'm hurting his feelings."

"It's not about Jacob, Bella. It's about you. This boyfriend of yours...what's his name?"

"Um," I lowered my menu and took a sip of my green tea, thinking of a way to tell her I was dating her former step-brother, who didn't trust her as far as he could throw her, wasn't going to be easy. I invited her here to find out why he would feel that way, though. If Edward was right and she did do something terrible, I should distance myself.

Before I could answer her and get the ball rolling, my phone rang again. I muffled a squeal, ecstatic that Edward's name was on my phone's screen. I loved the sound of his voice everyday, all day.

"Excuse me, Alice. This won't be long." I turned sideways in my seat. "Hi, baby."

"Hey, where are you?" I heard cars honking in the background, which I wasn't expecting. I left him in bed. I thought he would stay there for the rest of the day. That's how it always worked in my fantasies, anyway.

"Union Square. At the Thai restaurant."

"You're having Thai for lunch without me?" He sounded like a hurt little boy. It was so cute.

"Mmm hmm. Come join us! I'll order for you."

"You're out with someone..." he said, his voice low and suspicious.

"Remember? I was going to meet Alice for lunch today."

"Lunch, huh?"

"Yeah, don't start."

Alice pursed her lips, suddenly intent on the conversation. So, I stood up, heading towards the wall near the bathroom. The dimly-lit restaurant was cozy, only a dozen small tables fit. Still, I was far enough away from Alice to have my privacy.

"So, join us," I said, continuing the phone call as I leaned against the wall. "This is the first weekend I've had free since starting at The New Yorker. I had to get out of my apartment." I spent last weekend at home doing research, much to Edward's chagrin. My hands were on my laptop and tablet more than they were on him.

"You know I don't like eating out." Edward had to raise his voice over the traffic. "Besides, I gotta meet Ben. We're gonna run some lines for Macbeth. My audition is coming up."

"Oh. Ben...umm, best friend, Ben?"

"Yeah. We're working at my apartment, today. Can you drop by later with some curry chicken? I'll pay you back."

"Of course." I hadn't seen Edward's apartment, yet. Tonight would be the first time. My mind spun with thoughts of what I would find there. Would some of Jane's things still be there? "And you don't have to pay me back, silly." My voice shook, and Edward caught it.

"Hey, why does your voice sound funny?"

"I... I miss you."

"Mmm. I miss you more."

"Much more."

"Can't wait to see you later."

"I can't wait to see you, too, baby," I said, heading back to the table. Alice was on her phone texting someone.

"I'll text you my address, okay?"

"Okay." I wanted to say that I loved him, but I couldn't. It wasn't the right time. When would be, though?

A couple of weeks wasn't enough to tell a guy you had been stalking for a month that you loved him. My body and soul were enamored with him, but to have said those words aloud might have scared him off. Guys were scared of them no matter who they were. Heck, I was scared of them. "I love you," were three words that might make him leave. And he couldn't leave me. Ever.

"Bye, baby." He hung up, and I felt this dull ache in my tummy. Being separated from him hadn't been as difficult as it had been initially. I swallowed down the hollowness.

As I pocketed my phone, Alice snickered.

"What's so funny?" I asked. I downed the tea, temporarily filling that emptiness.

"Nothing. Umm...Nothing. Hey, so two weeks done. Congrats! My mom didn't kill you."

"No. I got my second strike my first day of work, though. Hey, do you have any way to repeal that?"

"It's iron-clad," she said, shaking her head. "I wanted to join the orchestra when I was in the fifth grade. My mom told me I'd have to keep my grades up, meaning straight A's no matter what. I was the best violinist in my class, but when I got three A minuses on these English exams, mom forced me to quit."

"Ouch." I bit my tongue. _She applies it to her own daughter?_

"Yeah, that expression? Imagine being ten years old and feeling like that. Mom doesn't allow any more chances. Three is enough according to her," she huffed. "I wish I could help, but no one changes Esme Evanson's mind."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Bella. Speaking of my demanding mother, she can't stop talking about Jessica Stanley. Personally, I don't see what's so special about her. She's like a leech."

I cocked my eyebrow. Alice had been just as bitter about Jessica the last time she came up. I wondered if that cocksucker had done any of her notorious mindfuckery with her...

"What's your problem with Jessica? Yeah, she's a leech, but I didn't know you knew her well enough."

Alice put on a quick smile and began asking me about the research project on the potential authors for the festival this fall. Rather than call her out on changing the subject, I described one fascinating author after another to her. Perhaps Alice needed some more time to let loose about that thorn in my side. Whatever her problem was with Jessica was forgotten, however, when Edward came up again.

He sent me the text of his address, the second movement playing again. Alice laughed about the ringtone as I skimmed his message. His apartment was in Park Slope. I was floored. There was no way he could afford that himself.

I brought up the fact that he was in Park Slope to Alice, who assumed his parents must cover it. Her mom helped her out with rent for her apartment in the West Village.

"It's not that bad," I told her. "Park Slope is great. Ed- He lives right near Prospect Park, too."

"Where do you live, Williamsburg? Half my friends live there. Erik moved there last semester with his boyfriend. He loves it."

I blushed, lowering my gaze to my tea. I couldn't afford Williamsburg prices even if I got three jobs.

"Hmm, not Williamsburg..." Alice said, tilting her head to the side. "Carroll Gardens is nice. And the Bedford Stuyvesant neighborhood is coming up."

"It's... um, it's neither of those. I live in Crown Heights."

"Oh..." She frowned, but it quickly disappeared. "Seen any crack pipes lately? Kidding, kidding," she said, laughing nervously. I had seen crack pipes, so I couldn't help but laugh with her.

"Crack pipes add character. I love walking down the streets at night and dodging them. It's like the Crown Heights version of hop scotch."

"How'd you get an apartment there?" Alice asked, when our laughter died down. "You're from Washington State, aren't you? It seems...out of your way."

"It's my mom's. My mom lived here for a few years."

"Really..." Her forehead wrinkled in this pitying way. Quickly, I got her off the pity track.

"My mom isn't from Crown Heights or anything. She's from Washington state. She came to New York for school a few years ago and struggled for a long time as an artist. This apartment was all she could afford. And Crown Heights isn't that terrible. There are a lot of hard working families there, just trying to make it like everyone else. It's just harder to see the beauty in that area when so many people spend their living destroying it and no one cares to fix it."

"Well... why don't you move? Your mom will let you move, right?"

"I'm actually thinking of subletting it. Mom doesn't want to let go of it, yet. I might move into the dorms for senior year, instead."

"Why? It's hell, or so I've heard. Erik told me his last roommate had sex while he was in the room!" She sipped her tea. "Why don't you move in with your new hubby, instead? You two sound like you're already married."

I shook my head. I couldn't live in the same place Jane had slept in. It'd be too weird. It had been this unspoken agreement between Edward and me since he began sleeping over every night. "That's not happening."

"He lives in Park Slope. You want to live near Prospect Park, don't you?"

"I do, but it's just not an option for us right now."

"Is he trying to hide something from you? A girlfriend, perhaps?" She smirked.

"No, he's not. He spends all night and every weekend with me. He's not hiding a girlfriend."

"Has he invited you to his apartment before? To show it off?"

"No..."

Alice snorted. "That's like rule number one in every relationship. You have to see the man's apartment to see if he's hiding his ten kids." She chuckled, but her eyes were steady. She was serious.

"Alice," I said, fighting a grin. "Stop trying to make me crazy. He's dedicated to me."

"How long have you two been dating?" That was when the waiter arrived with our food. "Thank you."

"Thank you," I said as well. I waited for him to walk away before I answered her, telling her a couple of weeks.

"Weeks? You sounded like a newlywed on the phone, and I mean that in the worst way," she said, separating her chopsticks with a snap. She tapped my hand with it.

I struggled with my own chopsticks, frowning. Edward had tried to teach me every time we had ordered from here or Spice, but I just couldn't pick it up. "How do you work these things?"

Alice proceeded to show me the method of holding the sticks near their tips and keeping one finger stiff while the other one was to move. Edward had explained it the same way, but, for some reason, I finally figured it out with Alice.

"Thank you! I've been trying to learn for what seems like forever."

"Glad to help. This is so strange how Edward's coming up again, but he's the one who taught me how to use chopsticks. Well, he and... Jasper. Gosh, I haven't thought about them in years. Brings back so many memories," she said with a sad smile.

_Okay, here we go. The necessary truth. And who was Jasper?_

"Really? He sounded like a cool step-brother. You must miss him."

"I do, sometimes. We could have been closer if our parents hadn't gotten the marriage annulled in two months. I moved to Louisiana to live with my dad, and I never saw Edward or Jasper again."

"Who was Jasper? Your other step-brother?"

Alice grabbed some noodles with her chopsticks, shaking her head slowly. She averted her gaze from her noodles to the tea pot, to me, back to her noodles.

"No... Um... He was Edward's best friend. They were super tight, like brothers. But, no, my other step brother was Emmett."

_So, that's who Jasper was... _"What was Emmett like?"

She chewed on her noodles, giving me the side-eye.

"He was cool, but a lot older... Anyway, I doubt I'll ever see any of those guys again. They're all in L.A."

"That's a shame." I took a deep breath before the next question. This was it. Why did Edward have a problem with Alice? "So, you don't remain in contact with Edward and Jasper? Did you have a falling out with them?"

Alice laid her chopsticks beside her plate and crossed her arms. "Why are you so curious about them?"

_Well__, __shoot_! I shrugged, feeling my cheeks heat up despite myself.

"I'm a journalist at heart. It's what I do, ask people intrusive questions."

"Hmm... A 'why' girl, like my mom likes to say."

"Yeah, I guess. So, you're not friends with them anymore?"

"I'm not. I mean... I can't be friends with Jasper..."

"Why not? Did you two break up?"

Alice shook her head, biting into her chopstick. She lowered her gaze.

"No, I can't be friends with Jasper because he's dead."

"Wait. What?" _Dead? Edward's best friend was dead? Oh no._

"I really don't want to talk about this. I was a 13 year old kid who did a lot of foolish things when I was younger. I don't want to revisit it with you right now when none of those people matter to me anymore."

I reached my hand out to hers, but she pulled away before I could touch her.

"I'm so sorry, Alice."

"Why? This has nothing to do with you." She drank some tea, and I waited for her to swallow it and put her cup down before I continued. I didn't want her to choke on the tea or throw the cup at me when I told her the truth. Problem was, she picked up the teapot as soon as I opened my mouth.

"It does. I'm... I'm dating that step brother who could play Beethoven from memory."

"What?" She poured the tea all over the tablecloth and her noodles.

"My boyfriend. He's Edward Cullen. I'm dating Edward Cullen." We picked up some napkins to dry the spill.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know how to..."

"Oh... Oh, he didn't want you to see me, did he?" She dropped her drenched napkins on her plate.

"Not exactly. And... I need to know why."

"Why what?"

"Why does he feel so weird about you?"

She shook her head. "It's a long story. I told you. I don't wanna talk about it now. Let's discuss it another time."

"Alice..."

"So, Edward Cullen." She shook her bangs out of her eyes. "Looks like he's turned into an insecure jerk in the last seven years."

I grimaced, pushing my plate away. "You don't have to be like this. Whatever happened between you two, or between you three, was in the past. You can become close again."

"I doubt Edward would ever want that."

"Why not, Alice? Tell me."

She plopped her elbow on the table, rubbing her forehead, her hand shielding her eyes, which were closed.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Those two months were the worst of my life, especially Jasper's death."

"Okay."

"I'm just caught off guard. I wasn't expecting all this to come up."

"Okay, we can talk about something else."

"No, I think I should leave." Her eyes became shiny and she wiped a tear away before it fell. I tried to reach out again, but she pulled away. _What happened in L.A.? What happened to this Jasper person? Did she cause his death? _Try as I might, I couldn't get any of these answers from her today because she was resolved in her decision to leave.

She unzipped her purse, sniffling, and took out a twenty.

"My treat today, alright?" She zipped her purse, grabbed her jacket, and stood up. "Thank you for asking me out. Say hi to Edward for me... Or you know, don't." She turned to leave when I stood up to catch up to her.

"Wait!" I stopped her outside, thunder rumbling overhead. "Whatever happened between you and Edward, I'll figure out a way to make it right."

"You really don't have to."

"I do. Your friendship means a lot to me. I don't want things to be weird now that you know who I'm dating."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be dating him anymore."

"No..." I backed away. "You don't know him. You can't say that."

"Yeah, I can. And it's best we keep it that way." She put her hand on my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, alright?" She turned and left.

"Alice! I'll call you, okay?"

She didn't look back.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye. :)**


	21. Chapter 19 The Cat

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N Hi. ****:(**

**It hurts. ****I'm sorry. ********I'll warn you of the angsty chapters with a "Hi :(" in my A/N. This means that it is heavy and I'm sorry.**

**I warn those who are sensitive to rape. **

* * *

******Chapter 19- The Cat**

**June 5, 2010**

Alice's behavior over lunch really worried me. I had never seen her so distraught. She was the most upbeat person I had ever known and to see her that broken scared me.

She said she had only known Jasper for a couple of months yet his death tore her apart? How did they grow so close in such a short time if they weren't dating? And how did her relationship with Edward become so strained?

I waited for his curry chicken order, contemplating the best way to broach this subject. It wouldn't be easy. With Jasper as his best friend, Edward would be even less open to talking about him than Alice was.

Running to catch the next train, the door nearly cutting me in half, I rubbed my chest and muttered a curse at the conductor. When an elderly woman shouted from behind me, I turned to watch her limp towards the train. The doors began to close before she reached the platform edge. Almost as a reflex, I stuck out my foot, the rotten conductor causing the doors to slam around it. Standing on one foot, I took her frail hands and helped her on.

"Thank you," she said, her blue eyes warm. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "Mmm hmm. That conductor is crazy."

She patted my hand and a tall, sharply dressed guy with dreadlocks got up to give her his seat. While we helped her sit down, I noticed the clear plastic gift bag on her lap.

It was from Jacques Torres Chocolates, with a long beige box inside.

I leaned against the door, remembering the last time I saw that box. Edward was redefined by that brand. And worse, he would be linked to Jane by it. I wanted to be linked in the same way. I just had to make everything about Jane disappear.

As I watched the elderly woman hobble off the train onto the platform at Wall St., I thought about Jane. The only way to make her as harmless as a puppy would be for me to be everything for Edward that she wasn't. I had to be his lover, and I had to treasure him. Asking questions about Jasper would be antithetical to that. Trying to reconnect him with Alice wouldn't do anything but hurt him. Aside from his insecurities about Jacob, things were going so well with us. We didn't even argue about Jessica anymore.

I approached Edward's door with butterflies in my stomach. I wouldn't find kids in there, as Alice had insinuated. He wasn't married. He didn't have any dead bodies in there. He was fine. No, he was better than fine. He was perfect.

I was about to knock, when I heard some voices directly behind the door. I exhaled, wiping my brow when I heard they were both male. The first voice was higher than the second, which was the rich baritone that I had heard whisper "Good night" to me every night for the last couple of weeks. I assumed the first belonged to Ben, since Edward said he was working on Macbeth with him this afternoon.

"What are your plans for your birthday this year? I can see you now, sitting here in your drawers eating Thai food with this new girl," Ben said, laughing. "What a way to celebrate 24."

"There ain't nothin' like having Thai food with Bella. I just might."

I sighed, my body tingling. Gosh, that was so good to hear. _We will do so much more than have Thai food, birthday boy. Oh, what to get him?_

"No, let's do something big. We should get wasted one last time before we have to spend every waking moment worrying about Tin Roof."

_Tin Roof? As in _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof? I pressed my ear against the door, a polished dark wood. The walls had the same dark wood paneling and a rich butterscotch paint. It was a beautiful hallway. It even smelled good here, like clean linen. The hallway in my building smelled like urine most of the time.

"I spend every waking and sleeping moment worried about Tin Roof, Ben. I have nightmares. We gotta find a producer before August. You know how much this show means to me."

"It'll be alright, Edward. Jane taking away her daddy's money isn't the end all, be all."

"No, she had _all_ of the money. It is the end."

"You were the one who couldn't keep your dick in your pants. Don't talk about this like you're the victim. You caused this shit."

I backed away from the door, trying to figure this whole thing out. _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?_ _Producers? Money? Jane dropping out? _

It was then that I remembered those Public Theater papers.

He didn't want me to see them in his dressing room. We hadn't discussed it since, but now it was clear. Seeing the contract that night was a reminder that he couldn't put on this play. And he tried to hide them from me because Jane was involved, just as I had suspected.

I pressed my hand on the wall separating us, wishing I could comfort him. If he had told me all of this, I would have tried to help him. He helped me with my project; the least I could do for him was be his soundboard. I didn't know anything about producing, but there had to be some way I could help him.

Then, it hit me. I slapped my forehead. How could I be so stupid? I caused this mess. If he hadn't left Jane for me, she wouldn't have withdrawn her "daddy's" money. It wasn't his "dick." Ben was wrong. I pursued him. So now, our relationship prevented him from his dream role, a role that he never even told me about. And nightmares? He shared none of this with me.

"Oh God," I whispered, then clapped my hand over my mouth.

"Shh... Did you hear something?" Ben asked. "I swear I just heard someone out in the hall."

"Really?"

I heard paper shuffling and the locks in the door unlatch. I almost cursed aloud, nearly dropping Edward's dinner. I heard more locks click and rushed to the end of the hallway before I heard the door open. Eavesdropping on a guy I had been stalking for a month was not something I wanted to be caught doing.

The hallway was fairly short, and I rounded the corner the moment I heard the door creak open.

"You're the definition of paranoid, Ben," I heard Edward say, chuckling. "There's no one here." I took a deep breath, sweating, my mouth dry. I took off my jacket, dropping it on the floor in a heap. I could uncheck international spy from my list of professions. This was way too nerve-wracking.

"Hey, I'm a New Yorker. We're paranoid by nature."

"Too paranoid. I'm telling you Jane won't be a problem."

"Yeah, well, you know her probably better than anybody. When she's committed to something, she doesn't give up on it. Remember Romeo and Juliet?"

Edward chortled. "She won't do the same thing here."

"Sure. She'll be even more cutthroat. You remember how badly she wanted that Juliet role. She bought off the competition! Who the fuck _does _that?"

"She isn't producing anymore. She has no say on who we hire for Maggie. She can't affect us."

"You're delusional," Ben said. "Jane will be Maggie. You just have to accept it. And you better watch your girl. She's not gonna be able to handle that pitbull once she comes back for you."

"I can handle the pitbull."

"You can't."

I slid down to the floor, tears building, a sob threatening to escape my throat. _This shit was not happening. Shit. Shit. Shit. I knew she wouldn't give up, but this was too much. She wasn't producing, yet she still wanted to be the Cat? All because of Edward..._

_They had three years to our two weeks. _That was all I could think about. _Three years. He would look at her, they would share a moment, and reconnect. _

_He would leave me._

"You don't have to worry about her, anyway. You just have to get these contracts to the Public Theater before Embry leaves, alright?"

"Alright." Ben sneezed.

"Bless you. Dude, watch where you're sneezing! I have a birthday coming up."

"If you fucking called your housekeeper once in a while to clean your place, I wouldn't be sneezing."

"Ha ha ha," Edward laughed, dryly. "Bye, Ben."

"So, wait, you sure about this? I'll mention your name and the fees will be waved, right?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, later man."

I heard Ben shuffle down the hallway and the door click shut. With that, I exhaled with a whoosh. Heartbeats thundering in my chest, my stomach churned. I gathered my legs up, dropping my head between my knees.

_Some day off this was_. I snorted. I came here hoping to get answers about why he and Alice had so many issues, not to mention finding out if Alice was right about him hiding a bunch of children. But attempting to mend a broken friendship and meeting his alleged children were the least of my problems. Jane was going to be in Edward's life. And according to Ben, she would be Maggie, the Cat, no matter what. She would stand on the roof.

"Fuck me."

I thought about going home, retreating to my apartment and sleeping away the day like it never existed. I stood up, picking up his curry chicken, the plastic bag rustling as I squeezed it in my fingers. I would leave it at his doorstep or just take it home.

I bent over to pick up my jacket, then pulled it on, trembling. I wiped my wet cheek and licked my top lip, salty with fresh tears. Edward wouldn't hold me tonight. The first thing I would see tomorrow morning wouldn't be his eyes.

"Goodnight, Edward," I whispered, holding the wall.

"Bella?"

I dropped the bag.

Backing away slowly, my cheeks burning up, my heart dropping to my core, I stood face to face with the man who I began to doubt just as much as I began to love.

"What are you doing back here? And you're crying." He wiped my right cheek with one hand, but I didn't look up at him, staring hard at his black socks and the cream carpet.

I sniffled, picking up the bag. "I brought you dinner," I whispered.

"Hey..." He held my face in both of his hands, tickling my jaw line with his thumbs. "Did Alice say something? She did, didn't she?"

"She did, but that's not..."

"What did she tell you?"

"I'm not crying because of Alice," I whispered, shutting my eyes. "Please, Edward, please just tell me the truth!"

He stopped tickling and dropped my face. "The truth?" His voice wavered.

When I opened my eyes, his head was tilted to the side, his brow furrowed.

"Bella, I have never lied to you. I would never lie."

I wanted to crawl under a rock and disappear. "You already have."

"Whatever she said, she was confused. She didn't understand anything."

"It's not Alice, Edward," I cried out. A frustrated sob escaped me as I dried my eyes. "So many times I've asked you to talk about Jane, and you never did."

"Jane?" He coughed a laugh, his eyes darkening. "Jane..." He repeated, his smile falling into a frown.

"You wouldn't tell me about the Public Theater. You couldn't. Why?"

"That has nothing to do with you."

"It has _everything_ to do with me. I was the one who took you away from her. I'm the reason why she's not producing anymore..."

He stood back, hugging his arms into his body. "How- Just now..." Pausing, he rubbed his neck with a huff. "You were spying on me?"

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't..."

He snatched his dinner from my hands, the plastic crinkling in his fingers, then turned back to his apartment.

"It wasn't my intention to- I was just worried and confused about you."

"I don't need this shit right now, alright? I have too much going on to deal with Alice and your goddamn insecurities." His strides were long and slow, the growing distance unbearable.

I hurried behind him, my stomach flipping.

"Don't walk away like this, please!"

Heat flared up my face and down my arms as he crossed the threshold, and the tingles shook me down to my core. I squeezed my eyes shut, leaning back against the wall across from his apartment.

"Shit. Shit..." His deep voice coming from his doorway was followed by the swish of his footsteps rapidly approaching me.

His stone-cold arms tightened around my waist as he pulled me forward. I squinted up at him, viridian greeting me.

"Come on," he ordered gruffly, pushing me inside. He was rough with me, tearing off my jacket and squeezing my wrists in his hand like I was a ragdoll.

"You're..." I gasped. "You're hurting me." I wrenched my wrists out of his hands, but he quickly grasped my shoulders.

Kicking the door behind him, his icy palms slid down my bare arms. I shivered, glaring up at him. I had to wrinkle my nose and hold my breath because of the stench. It smelled like stale cigarette smoke and spoiled milk.

"Let go of me."

"Unh unh. Not until you understand something."

"What? That you're being a jerk?" I wriggled my arms, but he didn't budge.

"You mean a lot to me, Bella. I don't feel this way about just any girl, okay?"

"I know-"

"You _know_?" he spat. "You were spying on me and you _know_!" He slammed his hand against the wall, and I flinched. "Shit!" His breathing was shallow and fast against my neck. "I'm sorry. Sorry." Holding me, he buried his face in my neck, his scruff scratching my skin.

"I'm trying," I said, pausing to catch my breath. His lips made their way to my collarbone and remained there, soft and warm now. I slowly opened my eyes to find that his living room was huge. A worn leather couch was in the middle behind a dusty coffee table with piles of books and DVDs. "I'm trying to know you, but you make it impossible."

"I don't want to hurt you," he mumbled into my chest. He kissed it, his hand covering my heart. "You mean a lot to me, Bella. I don't want to hurt you."

"Keeping these things from me hurts." I lifted his face from my chest. "Tell me the truth about Jane."

After tugging the hemline of his Beethoven t-shirt, gazing intently at the composer's scowl across my chest, he turned away to his living room, plopping down on the couch. He leaned forward, dropping his face in his hands and rubbing his forehead. As I followed him, I recognized him in three photos hanging on the walls.

He was in costume as Romeo in 2007, according to the note beneath the black and white photo. On his knees in _A Streetcar Named Desire, _his face was twisted in desperation. Also in black and white, he shared an emotional scene with an older man in _Death of a Salesman._ That final photo was unique to the first two, but not because of him. It was because he shared the photos with the last woman I ever expected him to. His Juliet kissed him in the first photo. And Stella, ignoring his pleas in the second, made me want to tear that damn frame off the wall and throw it out the window.

Juliet and Stella were both played by Jane, the ravishing Jane Volturi.

"I'm not gonna get into this," Edward mumbled into his hands. I shut my eyes of their kiss, dressed as literature's most romantic couple of all time. Hesitant steps toward my lover's slumped posture were slower than they should have been. He wasn't Romeo. He was living and breathing and hurting right now. He needed me to make it better.

"If you would just talk about it with me," I said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him, "it might help."

"I'm not gonna talk about Jane with you." His decision was final, but those eyes were hurting. When he looked up, there was an overwhelming sense of worry that broke me.

"You'll find another producer. I'll help you..." I thought of Alice and Edward and my conversation about "connections" a couple weeks ago. So, Jessica was another one of his attempts...

"You can't. You don't have the money. No one does." Edward stood up, heading to his kitchen. There was a bar where his stove top and sink were. Behind him was this gigantic steel fridge with mahogany cupboards overhead and to the right. Dirty dishes and cartons of orange juice and milk decorated his counter top. Grabbing the handle to the pot of half-eaten mac and cheese from his stove top, he dumped it in his sink and revved up the garbage disposal. "Sorry about the mess. I'll call a cleaning service tomorrow."

"It's fine..." I sighed, shifting on the table to face him. I knocked over a couple of books on Freud, a bio of Lee Strasberg, and a black hardcover collection of essays by James Baldwin to the floor. "Shit." I bent over to pick them up, and quickly moved to the couch. Dust bunnies formed an outline of my ass on the table. "So, that's why you wanted to _connect _with Jessica a couple weeks back, isn't it? It wasn't only about David Mamet. You needed an investor."

"Look, I know you hate her. So, that's a dead end." He shut the disposal off and washed his hands.

"Why would you even think of asking her? Why not ask me? Why not talk to me about this?"

Opening the steel fridge behind him, he grabbed a bottle of beer. "Want some?"

Rolling my eyes, I picked up a pillow, hugging it to my chest. "No thanks. I don't like beer." I stared ahead at a tall bookcase against the wall.

More books filled the seven shelves. The middle row had a couple of bobbleheads of baseball players I didn't recognize. Between the bobbleheads was a signed laminated card. It looked like Barry Bonds, who I had researched after Edward mentioned him last month. A record player layered with dust was to the right of the bookshelf, about twenty albums lined up beneath it.

There wasn't a TV.

From my peripheral vision, I saw him unscrew the cap, tossing it in the sink. Then, he leaned against the fridge, downing half of it. Setting it on the counter, he left the kitchen and stood against the wall beside his photos with Jane.

"It bothers me that you spied on me, Bella. I don't want this to happen again."

I crossed my legs, arching my eyebrow. "I wouldn't have to if you were more open with me."

"There's nothing to be open about. What I do with Jane is none of your concern."

"You can't be serious." I stood up, careful not to move any more of his books teetering on the edge of the table, and made my way toward him.

"I am. I have that situation under control. Didn't you hear me tell Ben?" Edward shoved his hands into his pockets, grimacing. "We were out in the hallway, then, so, you must've heard everything."

I didn't want it to, but his biting tone hurt, and I felt my chest get all tight. My eyes burned with forthcoming tears, and I turned around to face the hallway. Above an end table with a glass lamp, half a dozen more black-framed photos adorned the wall. Most of them were candids of Edward with someone I immediately recognized as Emmett.

They were on a sail boat, together. Edward's hair was shaggy and covering his eyes, his gangly arm over Emmett's round shoulder. Edward's brother was bigger than Jake, which was weird to see. I never thought I'd see anyone bigger than Jake in my life. He shared Edward's beautiful smile, although he was darker. His eyes were like fudge brownies.

An older gentleman, blond and austere, was in a couple of other photos. Someone took his photo in profile, the sunlight brightening his green eyes and further defining his straight jaw, both features exactly like Edward's. There was a difference, though. He didn't smile in either of these photos.

There were no photos of his mom.

"I- I've heard so much." I wiped a stray tear from my cheek, walking over for my jacket. "And right now, you're showing me more than I want to see. So, I- maybe I should go."

"Yeah, maybe you should," he said from behind me. Cold.

My heartbeat ringing in my ears, I bent down for my jacket. The familiar tingles bloomed within my chest and rushed down my tummy. I found it hard to breathe, clutching my chest.

"Oh God, why is this happening?" I gasped, his arm suddenly wrapped around my middle as solid as steel. I was lifted off the floor and shoved against the wall, cool lips against my collarbone once again. "Edward..."

"I can't... watch you leave. Shit. Whatever this is..." He sucked my neck, his hands squeezing my breasts and my nipples responding, hard and yearning for his rough touch. "Stay, Bella. Stay."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, the tingles instantly replaced by the pulse. It was steady in my depths, but my heart raced for more.

Stripping him of his t-shirt, the goose bumps all over his chest becoming red beneath my touch, I began to grind my body against his. It was all I could do now, feel him. I needed him everywhere. I couldn't understand him right now except in this physical sense. This was how we knew each other best.

"Fuck!" His jaw set tight, he lifted his head to mine, our foreheads colliding. His eyes were wet and open, like the green pools in my dreams. So open, letting me in, letting me swim in his depths, like I would soon let him swim in mine.

My jeans unzipped, he pushed them down my hips, his teeth biting into my lips, licking where it hurt the most, kissing the center.

"You're not gonna do this again," he scowled, his hands everywhere, possessing me. Hard lips charged against mine, he captured my chin in one hand. Rough. I needed rougher. "You're not gonna question me."

"Never."

I needed to lose my skin, my soul, my mind, if only to treasure him.

He raised my hands above my head, his eyes so close, they were all I could see. He was all-encompassing. Torrential kisses on my lips, our eyes never closed. Our breaths in sync, they quickened as he unbuttoned his jeans.

His tongue twisted around mine like a live wire, electric in my mouth. My wrists were raw within his tight grasp, but I needed him to hold me tighter. I bit my lip when he held both wrists in one hand, his eyes hard and glassy now, but still so open.

With my jeans down at my knees and my hands up over my head, I couldn't move anything but my head and hips, the latter which I struggled to thrust into him. But Edward repeatedly backed away, shaking his head.

He bunched up the cotton fabric of my panties into his hands, ripping them off me. I yelped into another kiss, as I heard the cotton hit the floor. His eyes were just as furious as before, but I could see something else. It jolted my nerves with both fear and excitement.

Unmercifully, he plunged two thick fingers inside me. Ice. I bucked, banging my head against the wall, my jeans falling to my ankles.

"Edward, please..." I kept my eyes with his to keep seeing that threat in his eyes.

"Don't beg..." He murmured, withdrawing his fingers. They glistened a cool pink from the lamp's light, but he didn't look at them. His gaze was only for me, for my eyes. "Not for this."

In his eyes was something I hadn't seen in weeks, not since he smoked his last cigarette in my bed: desperation. Tonight, though, it was different. It swirled within a dense cloud of fury and became something more vicious than the tender worry he had for my health all those nights ago. He yearned for something, badly. I just didn't know what it was or if he would ever tell me.

"What do you want, baby?"

He released my wrists, squishing my face between his frenzied hands. He cussed, kissing me again, nibbling my lips. His hands clawed at my breasts as if they wanted to get inside of me. My hands throbbing with the rush of blood returning to them, I stroked his chin and jaw trying to ease the tension in him.

"I'll give you anything, _be_ anything. Just tell me."

Kicking my sneakers and jeans off, I lifted my knee around his hip, trying to warm him. The fury would yield to tenderness. He just needed my warmth. And I was so close to drowning in his essence. He wanted to let me in deeper, I know he did. He just needed more time.

Tonight just wasn't the time.

He slapped my leg off of his hip. The cloud thickened, and the viridian returned. Implacable, he was too cold.

The sound of his jeans unzipping cut through the air. Reaching behind me, he yanked open the drawer, and snatched up a condom. He tore through the package with his teeth, spitting out the wrapper.

"Please, Edward." Hoarse words gasped against his grimace. I wrapped my arms around his neck, struggling to keep my forehead with his. Our eyes could not part. As he pushed his boxer briefs down, his heat, long and smooth greeting my tummy, I pressed his head into mine.

"Please."

He forced his eyes closed. "No!"

He whipped me around, brutally, slapping my ass. A sharp pain vibrated down my thigh and up my back. With another slap, he pushed me forward, bending me over the end table. With one thrust, the lamp crashed to the floor.

"Edward, stop!"

I was lying to him. I wanted more.

Growling against my back, he bit into my neck. Hard. His hands clamped down on my hips, his cock like a rod of fire inside of me. The sound of our skin slapping echoed around the room, his hand twisting my hair and jerked my head back.

"Harder!" As soon as the word flew out of my mouth, he did it. He went faster. He was unrelenting and never altering his rhythm. Like this, we understood each other. This was our truth and our emotions in their purest sense. Harsh. Intense. Demanding satiation. We wouldn't need words. It was in our blood and bones, forever.

I had to brace myself against the table shaking below us. The pulse in my depths beat like a thousand drums and the fire tumbled down and out of me. His eruption soon followed, in three thrusts, both hot and cold.

His breaths were warm on my back and the nape of my neck, throbbing from his bite. Cool hands on my ass caressed my sore skin.

"Bella," he whispered, pressing his rough cheek against my neck. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He pulled out of me, his hand releasing my hair. Cool. I turned to face him, holding his hands to my face. His eyes were averted, eyelids low.

"Don't," I murmured. I pulled his face down into my neck, stroking his hair. He was trembling against me, sweaty.

"I don't know what came over me. I'm not like this, Bella," he uttered this right into my chest, straight to the heart.

Jane's words at the park last month came back to me, then. I would never forget them...

_"You would never be able to handle the real man behind that makeup on stage. You would run away the first chance you got."_

She could not have been talking about this side of him. He was just angry about my spying. He had a right to feel this way. And it wasn't as if he raped me. I wanted this just as much as he did, maybe even more.

"I saw you walk away, and I got scared," he said.

He wouldn't do this again, that was the most important thing. This would never happen again because I would never walk away again.

"I know. You won't hurt me," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.

Brushing his forehead against mine, he intertwined our fingers. "Good." Then, he pulled away and stroked my bottom lip, swollen from his nibbles. "You don't have to worry about me, baby. Jane will never mean anything."

I was about to interrupt, but he silenced me with his fingers.

"Never question that."

He kissed my cheek and hugged me tight, whispering how sorry he was about the bites.

While he left to fetch some Band-Aids in his bathroom, I touched the swelling skin on the back of my neck. Hissing at contact, my eyes watered as I brought my fingers forward and saw blood.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye :(**


	22. Chapter 20 Time

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :) **

* * *

**Chapter 20- Time**

**June 19, 2010**

Skin sheds. A wound heals. A heart mends. A mind forgets and forgives. In time, things change. And time goes on when you don't want it to, when you wish you could stop it and stretch out one second to an eternity. Time is inhumane. It cheats you when you want more of it. It's sadistic, grinning when you beg for less of it. Lounging, it is blissfully ignorant of your demands. Time will always be the enemy.

Every morning, while my dreams bent former realities into fantasies, I liked to think that I was outside of time. I was outside of existence with one essential truth at my core: Edward. In-between the fantasy and reality, I forgot the pain. I didn't ache as I reclaimed my body, and my body and mind connected, yearning for one thing: Edward.

My skin hummed for him. Every thought predicted a glorious vision along my bed sheets. His smoldering gaze would make my limbs weak. All thoughts would silence as our eyes met.

Every morning, I grabbed reality with an eagerness of a starving puppy. My mind hazy with sleep, I would pat the sheets beside me, expecting a hairy forearm. But every morning, the sheets were cool. This morning wasn't the exception. This morning was a catastrophe.

"Edward?" I didn't hear his breathing. I didn't feel the weight of him. I took a deep breath. There was no Irish Spring.

Every morning for the last two weeks, I journeyed from a floating dream-space of luxury to a dark abyss called reality lacking everything I yearned for but abundant with the curse of time.

I wiped my cheeks, my palms wet, tears dripping down to my wrist. Warily, I listened for the shower.

Unlike several days prior, there was silence.

"Edward?"

I hopped out of bed, my heartbeat pounding in my chest. I took a deep breath at my doorway, wondering if there would be the scent of buttery pancakes in the air. He had to be in the kitchen. He would be flipping pancakes now. Last Saturday and Sunday, I woke up to an empty pillow because he had been in the kitchen. He had made eggs and bacon, to my surprise, and wanted me to indulge in them like the goddess I was. He promised pancakes for this Sunday. I sniffed the air once more and frowned.

This morning, there was only the faint smell of Raid. Smaller roaches had ventured into my bedroom last week. Along with the Thai food we had every night, the little critters became new bedfellows. My stomach would fill with vegetable dumplings, as if it could ease the dread. The taste of the spicy dark soy sauce on my tongue only worsened the dull ache.

"Edward?"

Out in the cool living room, rain lightly tapping the windows, I heard nothing else. Near the door where his sneakers should be, only mine were lined up neatly against the wall. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, every dish was clean. There wasn't one mug in the sink.

I walked to the counter, searching for any other clues. My dishes were dry. There were no plastic bags or empty containers from Spice. It was spotless.

Thirsty, I opened the fridge and reached down for some orange juice when I saw them.

Milk, eggs, chocolate frosting. I slammed the door shut, swallowing down tears.

Leaning against the fridge, I stared at the cabinet across from me, boring a hole through it. There was flour and sugar in there. A tiny brown bottle of vanilla extract was still sealed. And last night, I added one long candle to the bunch. Remembering all that had occurred last night, I was certain that it would remain in its package.

It had started in his apartment. One bite at the nape of my neck changed everything. But last night, he showed me that I meant nothing to him, and I probably never will.

It was as clear as day in a couple of text messages and clearer in one very brief phone call. I remembered what was exchanged in the messages as I opened the fridge again for my orange juice.

_Sorry there was an emergency. I'll call you tomorrow._

_Are you hurt?_

I chugged the orange juice down, his final words like white searing heat behind my eyelids.

_I'm fine. I can't explain now, but I'll see you later. I'll make this up to you baby. _

He liked to end his texts in this way since that night in his apartment. "I'll make this up to you baby." He did just that the morning after that incident. It was a lovely Sunday. Along with the breakfast- something he said his mom used to make all the time- there were sweet forehead kisses between whispers of stolen sonnets from Shakespeare. Then, there was a midday bubble bath.

He was sweet, so sweet. When we got out of the tub together, though, he claimed he had work to do with Ben and left. He kissed me again on my forehead, the most tender kiss, and ran out into the thunderstorm to his awaiting cab. I remembered this moment vividly as I finished my orange juice because it wasn't the last time he ran away last week.

The phone call late last night deepened my understanding of us. It was clearer, now. He belonged to only one woman, and she wasn't me.

_"Bella, I'm sorry." His voice was shaking and husky. He sounded like he had been crying. _

_"Edward, what's wrong?"_

_"I'm at the hospital. And I don't have much time to talk."_

_"What? You're hurt?"_

_"No. I'm fine. I don't know about tomorrow, anymore. I don't know how long I'll be here."_

_"There's gotta be something I can do. Just tell me which hospital." _

_That's when I heard her..._

_"We don't have much time. Let's go, Edward."_

_I gasped. Jane._

_"Edward-"_

_"I gotta go. I miss you."_

In the distance, I heard my phone ring. The second movement of Beethoven's 14th Piano Sonata played. The air was filled with _him_, but the emptiness spread. Dread hollowed me out like an apple corer. Even as I got closer to the ring, I had a feeling I wouldn't hear his voice at the other end.

I rubbed my cheeks, and I twisted my hair up and off my hot neck as I approached the phone. When I saw who it was, I wanted to throw it at the wall.

"What?"

"Hey, um, have you heard from Alice? I've been trying to get a hold of her." Perky, bright, eternally chipper.

"No, Jessica."

"Hmm, it's really important. Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Did you want anything else?"

"Actually, I did. What's going on with Kate's blog?"

How did she know about that?

"What are you talking about?" Kate wasn't going to like this at all.

"'The Fire Escape' right?"

"Jessica..."

"If you need any help, let me know. I have a blog on Wordpress, so I know how to use it."

"Okay. Thanks." I squeezed my phone way too hard and took a deep breath. My guilt was irrational. She shouldn't be doing this side project with Kate anyway. She's a disrespectful cuntwhore.

"Hey, by the way, I haven't seen that hot boyfriend of yours at the office lately. I hope he comes to visit on Monday."

"Me too," I said, my voice shaking. "Bye."

"Bye Bella." Her voice was like spring sunshine.

My eyes burned, warm tears wetting my cheeks. I flung the phone onto my bed. It landed on Edward's pillow. The tears flowed even more.

"I can't do this again. He's fine. We're fine. He'll call me." The emergency wasn't that bad. We will celebrate his birthday tomorrow.

I scratched the scar on the back of my neck. It hurt before. I understood why he ran away the first time because I wanted to run, too. How could he be so cruel? I can't question him? What did he want me to do next? Wear a Burka?

I scoffed, sitting on my bed and crossed my arms. He wasn't going to turn me into a fucking dog he could train. I was tougher than that. In fact, I would tell him that the next time I saw him.

Sinking down to the creaking floor, my assumption weighed down heavily on me. Who knew when that would be? He'd break his promise. He'd leave me. I'd take another bite on my neck over that emptiness any day.

I dug into my satchel to retrieve my tablet. The throes of woe were brutal to my productivity, and I had a lot of shit to do. I had an interview to schedule for "The Fire Escape," Kate's side project I had been working on for a week. I had no questions to ask the up and coming author Kate was really interested in: Simon Van Booy. I was thankful for the internship. I had something else to throw myself into other than Edward because without him, it was all I thought about.

The first thing I saw on my tablet, though, was a PM from Alice on Facebook.

**Between You and Brandon Inc.**

**Brandon Inc. June 19, 2010 6:35 a.m.**

_Hey, my mom is giving you rave reviews at the magazine. She said you're working long hours the last couple weeks and giving 110%. She really likes that. Keep it up. She may want to hire you after graduation._

_So, sorry about running out on you before. Let's just never talk about that, okay? It's in the past and never happening again. I do want to make it up to Edward, though. Call me so I can share my ideas. _

I got up off the floor and hopped onto my bed for my phone. She picked up after the second beep.

"Bella! You got my message!" Chipper yet unpretentious.

"I did. It sounds interesting. You want to do something for Edward?" Heart palpitations were louder than the roar of my pickup in Forks.

"I have already. All you have to do is get him to this restaurant tomorrow night at 7:30. It's his birthday, right?"

"Yes... You remembered his birthday?"

"I remember a lot. And I know he doesn't like eating out, but he'll love this place."

Chewing my lower lip, I asked, "So, you _were_ really close."

"Yes, and our conversation two weeks ago got me thinking... I miss him. I miss our friendship. And I want to move past the shit and be friends again."

"That's great, Alice. I'm glad."

"Good. And hopefully you can help. He was so stubborn back in the day."

"That may not be so easy."

"Really. I thought you had him wrapped around your finger."

I pulled at a loose thread on my comforter. "He has a lot going on right now." I squeezed my eyes shut. "I don't even know what we are anymore."

"What? He broke up with you?"

"It's worse. He's pushed me away, and I don't know if he's ever coming back."

"Do-" Her formerly chipper voice lowered and softened to a whisper. "Do you think it's because of me?"

"No, he- he hurt me, Alice."

"Where are you right now?"

"Home," I sniffled.

"Good. Give me the address. I'm coming over."

****Time****

"It started the Saturday we met for lunch. I had so many questions for him and he shut me out. And after that, he's been so distant with me. I feel like he's pulling away and I don't know how to stop this. He didn't even sleep here last night. Then, I get a call from him last night canceling our plans today and he has the audacity to be with that ex bitch fiancee of his. No explanations as if I don't matter!"

The inner banshee was out in a rage. Pacing my living room, I kept yanking at the elastic band of my sweat pants and tugging at the collar of my t-shirt- a ratty School of Visual Arts t-shirt from my mom's drawer, not Beethoven. Alice sat on my couch, poised in her leather jacket and dark jeans. She remained quiet the entire time, her dark brown eyes following me, a subtle frown on her lips. I was near hysterics while she remained as still as stone.

"Alice, I'm asking you what should I do."

"I've already told you what you should do a couple of weeks ago, and you didn't listen then. Why would you listen now?"

"Alice, come on! That is _not_ a solution." I stood in front of her, my hands on my hips.

"Of course it is. Your problem would be solved instantly." She sighed, flipping her wavy hair off her shoulders.

"It's not an option."

"Bella, break up with him."

"I can't."

"It's really easy. You don't even have to call him back because he's not gonna call you back. It'll be the easiest break-up in the history of break-ups."

"No, Alice."

"What's up with Edward that's got you so bound to him? I mean, he was good, but not _that _good_."_

We exchanged a look and I felt my cheeks heat up at the thought of them doing _everything_ horizontally.

"You didn't..."

"Bella, it was ages ago." She rolled her eyes. "A different time."

So, _that_ was it.

I folded my fingers to stop the shaking. "Were you like... together?" That night we first made love, Edward had said he lost his virginity in the tenth grade. That was around the time Alice and Esme were living with them...

"Bella, really, you don't have to worry about it. It was nothing."

"You can't stand each other, some kid called Jasper ends up dying, and you're telling me it was nothing?"

"Bella, calm down."

"What happened in L.A.?

"L.A..." Alice tilted her head to the side, frowning. "You don't have to know what happened in L.A. to know you should leave him."

"Weren't you the one who wanted to rebuild your friendship? Now..."

"I still want to be his friend. I owe a lot to him, and he was a good brother. But I would never be in a relationship with him. You can't either."

I sat down next to her, vigorously rubbing my scalp. "Why not?"

"You wouldn't understand." Her eyes were on the floor, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

"I shouldn't be friends with him because of what happened in L.A., right?"

She got up, stretching her arms and back and crossing her ankles. I couldn't see her face but her tight fists up in the air said a million things.

"You don't know what it was like," she said witheringly. "I loved Jasper. I've never loved anyone so much in my life, and he said that he loved me back. He said I was the only one, but I wasn't." Alice rolled her neck and turned a little so I saw her profile. Her jaw was set tight. Her bottom lip quivered until she bit it.

"I loved him, but it wasn't enough."

"Okay?" I arched my eyebrow. This tragedy couldn't be because of an unrequited crush.

"I saw him and..." She cleared her throat. "I saw him with someone he shouldn't have been with. I caught him in the act."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Alice. Was she someone you knew?"

She frowned, combing her fingers through her bangs. "I couldn't handle it and kinda lost it. I didn't have control of my feelings back then. I didn't understand boys could be like that. I mean, I did but not the boys I knew. I was so sheltered."

She turned to face me, pulling off her jacket and throwing it on the couch. I hadn't noticed before but she had on this necklace with a pendant that she slid across the silver chain from left to right. It was a silver circle bent in the middle.

"One day, I tried to prove to him that I wasn't... sheltered, and it blew up in my face." As the pendant moved rapidly between her fingers and thumb, it looked like pure light.

"How?"

"I wanted to give him what I thought he'd like. Me, a thirteen year old, seduced a sixteen year old boy." She shook her head. "And he was kind. He said he loved me and in a couple of years, things might be different. He was just confused."

"Confused? That was his answer for cheating on you? You were only thirteen, and he fucked another girl and you let him get away with it?" I wanted to spit on his grave for doing that to Alice.

"He didn't."

"What does that mean?"

"He didn't fuck another girl."

"Oh God. Who was it? A guy?"

Alice winced, her eyelids low and her shoulders slumped over. "When I walked in his living room that night, yes, he was with a guy. He was with Edward."

I shut my eyes, willing my heart to stop pounding. It was all I could hear... or wanted to hear. No matter how hard I tried, though, I couldn't erase her words from my memory. That which had been said could not be unsaid.

Images of Edward and this stranger sliced through my own sweet memories him. All the things he did with me just didn't gel with that. Our lovemaking was perfect. He got hard with just one look from me in the morning. I don't think I've ever known him to be uninterested in me, in my body, in all the ways I had satisfied him.

Suddenly, Alice came over and pulled my finger out of my mouth. I had been biting my nails like mad.

"Whatever you thought you saw was wrong, Alice." I felt queasy, the dread rolling around my stomach like spoiled milk.

She shook her head. "I wish I were. I wish I knew that he could make you happy."

"You were thirteen. What could you have seen that made you so sure of anything?" I found it hard to swallow, my tongue thick and heavy in my mouth. "You knew nothing."

"I know what I saw."

"No." I scratched my forehead, my neck, my body tingling all over and heating up. "No, it was a mistake." I stood up, unable to look at her. Maybe Edward was right about her.

"Bella, you don't have to see it now. You can refuse and deny the truth all you want. But seven years ago, Jasper and Edward were closer than they should have been, and Jasper's dead because of that. I just want you to be more careful than he was."

"How? How could Jasper have died because of Edward?"

"I didn't mean it that way. There were many reasons he died."

"Tell me what they were."

"No. No, I can't." She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes down on the floor. "I can't."

"I'm sorry, Alice. I just want to understand everything that's happening with the man I..."

"Love?"

"Yes." With a faint whisper, "I love him."

"Okay... Just call me if anything happens. I'm here." She picked up her jacket and stood up.

"Alice, I'll be fine."

After she glanced at the ceiling, she stared at me for a second, her eyes wet and dark.

"That's what Jasper said." Her words remained heavy in the air as she headed out. I got a sense of deja vu as the door slammed behind her. I had crossed the line with her again. She came over to help me, and all I could do was demand more of her. Why couldn't I leave her alone? Why must I meddle in their business?

I picked up a throw pillow, hugging it to my chest. No matter how much I wanted to let everything go, I couldn't. I had to ask "why." Why was Jasper such a terrible memory for them?

That's when everything began to click.

Three years. Three years Edward was virtually a virgin with Jane. He learned how to finger fuck like a pro, yet she had never touched him once? And he had no problem with that? How could he, a man who was turned on by the lesbian sex scene in _Requiem for a Dream _for goodness sakes, be okay with not having sex with a woman he intended to marry?

Unless he _was _dating "Horatio"...

It was why he was so freaked out by me questioning him. He had a secret that had nothing to do with Jane at all.

"No. No..." His kisses, his eyes, his caresses, those were all from a man who craved me. There were more than just words. He needed me and that intensity went beyond sexuality.

These justifications weren't enough in the end. Alice opened a world that I had wanted Edward to tell me about but wouldn't. This had to be why. Only weeks ago, I thought he was perfection. _We_ were. I was so sure of everything, even though I knew nothing. Now, the more I learned, the less I knew, and the less I wanted to know.

Suddenly, I heard someone scream out in the hallway.

"Alice!"

I ran to my door, swinging it open, hoping to God it wasn't one of my crackhead neighbors. To my surprise, my skin flushed with heat in an instant. My fingers tingled from tips to root, up to my palms and down my wrist to my arms.

My mind had a hard time catching up, but my body knew. Edward was here.

Hurrying toward the staircase, I heard another scream, then a response.

"Shut the fuck up! Shut up! Fuck! I just want to talk."

I gasped, covering my mouth.

"You are such an ass for treating her like this," Alice exclaimed. "You can't go around doing this to people who care about you."

"Don't meddle in my business, Alice. Didn't you learn the lesson the first time?"

"How dare you bring that up! You know he meant the world to me." Her voice wavered and I felt like I was caught between a rock and a hard place. Alice was so fragile when it came to Jasper. I couldn't let anyone, even Edward speak to her like that.

I ran down the stairs.

"Bella means more. Bella is alive, okay? Bella is the most precious thing to me. You can't ruin this for me, Alice."

I was a flight away when I heard that and stopped. That's when a kid from the fourth floor ran ahead of me, nearly bumping into me. He stopped, turning around, his bright smile beautiful against his dark face.

"Sorry, I gotta go. Sorry, lady."

When I peeked down at them they both looked up. Alice ran down the stairs, and the kid followed soon after. As I approached the fourth floor, Edward's eyes caught mine and never let go.

Time ceased. My tortured suppositions faded. I lost everything in me, enraptured by his gaze.

His eyes were everything, and I was nothing.

Running into his arms, the hollowness filled.

* * *

**A/N Bye. :)**


	23. Chapter 21 Cancer

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**My lovely beta, maxipoo1024, called this chapter a "complete cluster fuck." So with that, enjoy lol.**

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**Chapter 21- Cancer**

**June 19, 2010**

Edward and I embraced, bumping against the stairway's sticky wall. His arms were like steel, unyielding around my waist, and we kissed. Lately, his touches had been incomplete. This was unlike any other hug or kiss. Everything I needed was in his tight hold, in the multi-hued freckles along his arms, and blond eyelashes lightly brushing his cheek.

He had been close to breaking his promise, to leaving me. Yet, here he was, with me, where he belonged.

"God, I've missed you," he murmured. The stale scent of cigarettes wafted through the air and my stomach dropped. Whatever happened last night must have been devastating. I couldn't help but love it though. I missed this so much. The bitter aroma had been just as much a part of him as the golden hair along his forearms.

On the tips of my toes, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into me, wishing my presence alone would soothe whatever ailed him. I spotted no cuts or bruises, which relieved some of my worry but not all. With his shoulders slumped, his hair ravaged and his fingers trembling, there were so many possibilities coloring his mood. I would remove all the shades of darkness tonight, one way or another.

"I'm so sorry for everything." Edward kissed my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you all right?" I asked into his neck. "What happened yesterday?"

"I'll never take you for granted again. You mean too much to me."

_He_ had been in a hospital last night yet was saying he wouldn't take _me_ for granted?

"Baby, what's wrong?" I stroked the back of his neck, like he would in distress, still stunned. He was here, really and truly.

With a sniff, he pulled me up into him so that my feet were off the floor. He squeezed me so tight that I couldn't breathe.

"I was a fucking jerk the last few days. I will never touch you like that again." His voice rumbled deep within him, and it shook me to my center. As he let me down, I could see his eyes for the first time.

They were open.

He sniffled again. Through his teeth, he said, "Never again, Bella."

"Baby, it's okay." I stroked his jaw line with my thumbs, covered in a thick auburn beard. "I just wanna make sure you're okay."

He shook his head, shutting his eyes. He hugged me, the facial hair scratching my forehead.

"You can never change." He kissed my shoulder, my neck. Pressing his forehead to mine, he held my face delicately. "Stay as you are, forever."

"Okay, no problem. I'll try to find a vampire on Craigslist tonight." I grinned, pinching his cheek, hoping to see that glimmer in his eye I loved. He lowered his gaze, leaning into me. His lips rounded into a frown.

"Stay. Forever," he rasped in my ear. "Promise me."

"Edward," I said, running my hands along his shoulders. He was tense along his back and arms. My skin stung with each pass of his beard, soothing me deep down from its familiarity. I hadn't felt him in a day, but it felt like forever.

"Of course," I said, breathlessly. "I've said so before. I haven't changed my mind in the last three weeks."

"Doesn't matter. Say it." He stood back, his long fingers splayed across my cheeks and neck. His eyes poured a volatile mix of desperation and fear into me. The meaning behind them was suffocating. He hadn't had that look since the night we watched _Requiem for a Dream. _That night, he had demanded I make the same promise.

"I'll never change. I'll stay forever."

He exhaled, his sorrow fanning my face as a warm light flickered across his green eyes. He had to let more of it out. He had to give it to me.

"What happened last night?"

Lifting my hands to his warm lips, he kissed my knuckles as his eyes continued to brighten. I was so close to absorbing the pain. He just needed to say the words and his inner turmoil would be mine.

"I was on my way here and... I received a call from Jane." He peered into my eyes with a tilt of his head, brushing my lips quickly with his thumbs.

"Is she alright?" I asked, with my eyes averted. I felt his light kiss on my eyelids before I looked up at him. The desperation was gone, as was the fear. The light was replaced by a cloudy darkness, by despair. My limbs became numb, and my mouth went slack at what I witnessed.

"Tell me."

He shut his eyes, his fingers like firecrackers along my neck. I gasped. It was harsher than I expected, and I pulled away from him.

He nodded, his eyes remaining shut. "She's fine. But... Liam." He bowed his head, rolling his shoulders back and turning his head left to right. Then, he furrowed his brow, muttering, "He's gone."

I covered my chest with my right hand, my heart dropping to my stomach.

"It shouldn't've been a surprise. At the park last month, we were told that this excursion would be the last one. And he's not my brother or anything. He's not...her's either." He pursed his lips. "It didn't matter, you know? He was such a good kid. And I guess a part of me prayed he would make it. He needed a miracle. He deserved it."

Tears blurred my vision, and I hated them. They prevented me from speaking with the steadfastness I needed to ease his mind. But no matter how much I wanted to make things seem all right, it wasn't enough. The tears fell hot and steadily.

"Bella don't." He wiped my face and neck, more pain passing through us like electricity through a live wire. Every breath I took was of his misery. Every exhalation was mine. I hated it. I didn't want to give it back. It should reside in me.

"I'm sorry." My voice trembled. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "I'm sorry he was taken from you."

"Bella..."

"Come." I took his hands, leading him up the stairs and through the hallway. In my bedroom, I pulled him into bed, trying to still his shivers by stroking his hair. He buried his face into my chest, taking a deep breath. His low moans reverberated through me. It was frightening to see him like this. How could I help him feel better? I couldn't bring Liam back for him. The only thing I could do was be here.

"Everything will be alright."

His cheek rubbing up and down against me, he murmured my name until he fell asleep.

Enraptured by Edward's scent, I marveled at how his hair blazed against my pillows. His legs folded around mine, just like they always did. I breathed in his hair, falling into dreams of green pools, blending old memories and new fantasies.

_"I don't know what I would do if I lost you, Bella. I don't know what I would do."_

_He whispered this in my ear. Coated in sweat, his hands were as soft as clouds on my cheeks._

_"Edward, I'm here."_

_Our heartbeats collided as his eyes dripped thick tears. His eyes were as green and as deep as the ocean, shimmering with hope. Beneath the light, though, there was pain. It was chronic and so severe, it burned. We shuddered simultaneously as I pressed my forehead to his, trying to get in deeper._

_"I'll always be with you." I touched his chest and kissed his cheeks, drying his tears._

_"You must stay this way," he murmured. Quiet sniffles followed, shaking the bed around us. I thought it would collapse from the force. "Promise me."_

_The shudders became shakes as his arms forced the breath from my lungs. In here, it didn't matter to me. He kept his eyes open for me._

_"I will."_

_"Stay with me, Bella." The bed fell away beneath us, and we floated in the darkness. _

_"I will never leave you."_

"Bella..."

I woke up, startled by the sound of his voice. Recovering, I realized that for the first time in weeks, my reality bested my dreams.

With his arm hanging loosely over my waist, we lay on our sides. Silent, he stroked my lips and down my chin, then he wiped a stray tear from my cheek. When he pulled me closer, I felt his erection against my tummy. Yet another sensation I missed terribly. My left leg hitched over his hip and my right leg caught in between his, I was in a cocoon of his life. I smelled nothing of myself, only him.

It was dark in my room, the streetlights casting it in a faded orange light. His eyes were shiny and only inches away. In the darkness, they glowed like the moon. I hadn't seen his eyes like this since the first time we made love: intense, and rife with everything that I always had a hard time believing he could feel. I shut my eyes, lowering my face into his chest. I met the thunderous beat of his heart. No control tonight.

"Bella, I love you." He kissed my forehead, then my ear. God, then he said it again. "I love you."

His fingers played with the tips of my hair. I closed my eyes, concentrating on my breathing. This wasn't a dream...

"I want this," he continued. "I will never wake up in the morning and want to see another set of eyes."

"I never want to wake up without you, either." I lifted my face and saw his light.

"Bella..."

"I love you." I repeated several times in a hushed tone, watching him go from hitched breathing to drawn-out sighs until he kissed me into silence.

His hands were smooth and warm around me as he pulled me on top of him. I sat up, blushing as I lifted off my ratty t-shirt. My breasts were bare beneath it, a warm breeze through the window hardening my nipples. He palmed them, his eyes remaining with mine.

"I wish you could stay like this. Soft skin..." His palms traveled down to my waist, to the elastic in my sweats. "Red cheeks. Your eyes are so beautiful. Perfect. And you say you love me..."

"I do."

"You can't."

"I think I always have. Since that first night."

He lifted me off of his lap, lowering me onto the mattress.

"Edward, no..."

Standing up, he pulled off his shirt and unzipped his jeans. Rolling off his tube socks, he grimaced, saying, "You can't. You don't know everything."

His boxers fell to the floor as I disagreed with him. He was hard, his cock up high, wavering with each movement. I licked my lips, my inner thighs tingling. "And you think you know me better?"

The bed groaned by the weight of him when he sat down. He propped his elbows on his thighs, resting his chin on his hands, facing away from me.

"You've lived a relatively simple life. You've never experienced death or loss or the fucking guilt."

"That doesn't make me better. It makes you stronger. It makes me love you more." I knelt behind him, hugging him, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"Bella, my past is not something you should revere." He reached over, tugging the elastic band of my sweats. "Take these off... please. I need to _see_ you."

I pushed my heavy hair off my face and sweaty neck, suddenly embarrassed. "What are you trying to prove by us being naked?"

For a moment, Edward didn't reply. He just stared thoughtfully at the wrinkled sheets between us. Then he asked, "Why must you always question me? Do as I ask, please."

My heart thudding, I quieted the "why" girl in me. As I slowly removed it, Edward stood up, appraising my nude form. He got up on the bed again, kneeling before me. I copied his pose, my hands resting on my lap, blushing furiously. I didn't understand where my nerves were coming from. I felt like my heart would jump from my throat as I followed his gaze, roaming my body. His eyes were like scanners.

Knitted together, his eyebrows formed a straight line for the couple of minutes he spent looking at me. Eventually, he brought my hands up to his cheeks. Then, he kissed my palms and each of my fingertips.

"Edward..."

"Come closer," he whispered, into my hands, his voice strained. "Please." He dropped his face onto my hands, breathing me in. I got close enough so that our knees bumped against each other but he demanded I get closer.

"I need all of you, now," he murmured in my hands. "Before things change."

"It won't. I'm here. I'm always here for you, like this, ready to give you anything you want from me."

He shook his head, dropping my hands. Staring at my breasts, he licked his lips, lowering his face. The coarse hairs on his cheek were rough against my left breast.

"Your heart beat is a symphony, so dense and heavy when you sleep, light and quick when we're here like this. Every morning, I must hear this."

"You will."

"There will come a day when I won't."

"Don't think about it. It may never come." I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought of a much worse alternative. "You may leave me first."

"Never." My stomach tied in knots as he crossed his arms around me tight, and he lowered me down to the sheets. Our fingers intertwined he whispered into my ear. "I need you each morning. I need you more than anything."

"I don't know what to say..."

"There's nothing to say. Your words aren't enough. Just be."

That wouldn't do. He deserved more.

We kissed quietly, warm tears burning my eyes as I tried to hold them in. Kissing my neck and down the middle of my breasts, his lips were wet and hot. I hid my face, ashamed he was doing this. I should be the one touching him.

He stopped kissing me, suddenly. Then, I didn't feel his lips at all. Instead, I felt his hands on my mine as he lifted them off of my face. He had this goofy grin that was contagious, and I smiled back.

"You're the last person I ever expected to be embarrassed. Yet, here you are," he pinched my nose. "And even more beautiful."

Caressing my hips and thighs, he kissed me until I spread my legs for him. I was breathless as his wet lips traveled further down. It had been too long since he had touched me like this.

Glancing down at his cock, I reached down for it and was met with a hiss.

"You waste no time." He cussed, kissing my cheek, then sucking neck. Thankfully, he didn't waste time, either, ransacking the nightstand drawer for a condom. Wrapping my legs around him as he sheathed his cock in latex, our eyes met, joined, and never left.

We made love for what seemed like the first time. Every emotion in me was a new one. Every time he gave, I wanted to give more. Every time he took, I felt like what I had for him wasn't enough.

There were embers heating up, hotter than any spark that had flared between us before. The fire that was to come would blaze brighter and longer than any that preceded it. It would remain inside of us from tonight until forever.

It was this emotion that terrified me. As our releases matched in passion and our heart beats matched in frenzy, I teared up, feeling inadequate. I would never be enough.

Later, curling into a ball on my side, the tears flowed across my nose and onto the pillow. Silently, Edward reached for my arms pulling them around his neck. He forced my body to align with his.

"Baby, why are you crying, huh?"

I couldn't tell him that I wasn't worth his desperation and anxieties, not after everything I had said before. I had been so sure since the beginning. I was becoming a schizo, here.

"I want to show you so much."

"You did. You were perfect. You are perfect." We nuzzled before he said, "This is what I needed from you. Now I know what you have to do."

"What _I_ have to do?"

"Listen for now. Understand where I'm coming from, and you'll know."

His jaw was set before he kissed my ear lobe. Quieter than a summer breeze, he spoke of a past that haunted the air and chilled me down to my bone.

"It's not as if he ever told me why he wanted to be with her. It all happened so fast. One day, we were hanging out and the next, he was with her all the time. Alice knew all the wrong people and Jasper didn't get that. All he saw was her youth and innocence. He didn't see how destructive she was. None of us did in the beginning. But it became all too clear near the end of his life."

Edward kissed my ear, pulling at my waist until I turned over to face him. Then, he smoothed out the furrows in my forehead and the frown lines around my lips. A wry smile spread across his lips. "She told you I had sex with him, didn't she?" He asked this more like a statement than a question.

"Y-You were close... right?"

Edward nodded and rubbed my chin with his thumb. "But Alice was naive. She didn't know what happened."

"But she said she saw you two kissing."

"Of course... How did she know that?" He took my hands, drawing circles on my palms. His breaths were shallow.

"You don't have to be like this. I love you no matter what." I kissed him on the lips, watching his eyes fall closed.

"Nothing happened, okay?" His face was flushed. He was lying, but I couldn't beg for more of the truth from him. Not when it made him this way.

"Okay."

"Jasper was my best friend..." He took a deep breath, opening his eyes. The light I saw in his eyes as he explained what happened to Liam didn't appear now. There was only murky guilt. "I know he felt something... else. When he made plans to leave for New York, he asked me to join him. A kid trying to make it on Broadway. They were dreams his mom and dad had for him, and he wanted to make them proud... even if it was a premature move. He didn't care. He had so much confidence and hated when he didn't get his way. Especially in this case, no one was gonna stop him, not even me."

His thumb swiped across my lips until my frown eased. He dropped his hands to my hips, pulling me forward then resting his forehead on my chin.

"But I was scared. And I was doing more music than acting back then. I was an amateur compared to him. I knew my dad wouldn't accept this, and I was kinda glad. My dad's marriage to Esme wasn't really working out around this time. I couldn't leave him and Emmett, not after," he paused, sinking down my body. "... after mom. He still needed the both of us. So, I told Jasper, 'No.' And... he paid for it."

"How?"

On my tummy, he shook his head. "He didn't know what he was doing."

"Baby, I don't understand."

"It doesn't matter. What does is that Alice kept intervening, and he kept depending on her. I was such a dumb kid. I didn't see what was happening right before my eyes. And before I could stop him, he self-destructed."

"What does _that_ mean?"

He sat up, facing away from me. Raising his knees, he dropped his face forward so low I couldn't see it.

"Edward, what happened?"

"Alice took Jasper out to a party in the Valley. It was where all her new 'friends' were." He uttered the word "friends" like a curse. "This was what I'd heard secondhand. I never went to the Valley for anything. So, maybe everyone was wrong and maybe Alice had nothing to do with it. But she went in with him and left without him.

"And the next morning," Edward exclaimed, his voice cracking. "I get a fucking call from Jasper's mom asking me where he was. _I_ get yelled at. Then I get to school and everyone's looking at _me_, demanding answers for shit I couldn't even conceive!"

His voice filled the room, burying me in a past I no longer wanted to understand. I sat up, kneeling beside him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

"Shh! We don't have to talk about this anymore. We can..." I kissed his shoulder. "We can get back to now, okay? I'm here."

"No! I have to tell you. Alice won't do this again!" He was so furious. His skin was splotchy and his breathing was heavy. Why did I do this to him?

"Alice won't do anything to me."

"Don't look at me like that, like she's innocent. She tried to be a _friend_ to Jasper, _take_ _care of _him. That bitch killed him!" He pounded his fists on the mattress, and I winced, backing away. He quickly apologized, twisting his neck to face me, his chin on his shoulder. He spoke as if he weren't here. His eyes didn't see me.

"Someone found him at that afterparty on the floor the next morning not breathing. A stranger called the ambulance." In a second, his eyes regained focus. "A stranger, Bella!" His eyes began to water, and he spoke so quickly, he spat on me.

"Please stop." Ignoring me, he went on, ravaging his hair again.

"They found needle marks on his arms. Jasper had so much heroin in his body, so much, Bella. That life was gone because a bunch of fucking dopeheads played with it. Unh unh," he said, shaking his head. "You're not going out like that. I'm gonna tell you for the last time, Bella. Stay away from her."

"Edward, I can't just..."

He scrambled up on his knees closing the space between us. With a vice-like grip around my arms, he glared down, his lips tight.

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. She killed my best friend. For fuck's sakes, Bella. I can't allow her to become a fucking cancer in your life. I won't."

I shook my head. "You're hurting me. Let go." Immediately, he did. Running his hands through his hair, he muttered an apology and sat back on his heels. He was tense and red all over and I wasn't helping, I made it worse.

"I won't live without you," he said with finality. "Last night at the hospital, watching Liam's life drain away... That can never be you."

"It won't be... I'm not Liam. And baby..." I held his face, smoothing his wild hair and the hard lines around his eyes. Gently, I kissed his cheek and took his hands. "I'm not Jasper."

"But you are."

Pressing his hand between my breasts, he kissed me on my lips. It was sweet and long and left me confused. Who was he kissing right now? Me, or the memory of his friend? I found the answer when he pulled away.

"Bella, that first night, you were mine." Edward held me by my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. "I knew you were going to be mine forever. I fought it at first. I didn't want to cheat. But all those dreams of you were more than just that. And no one will make you into something you're not. Not again."

"But... No one did. I'm still the same person."

"No," Edward said, shaking his head. "_I will tell you why_," he began with a slight edge in his voice. He sounded like he was going to cry. A familiar wildness filled his eyes. But even more than that, there was a hint of an English accent that made my limbs weaken instantly.

"... _Shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no feather. I have of late—but wherefore I know not—lost all my mirth; forgone all custom of exercises and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory_... How did you know those words by heart?" He asked this final question in his regular voice, in a flurry, his eyes quickly losing the brilliance.

"You aren't an actress. You're not a playwright or a historian. I've seen only a couple of Shakespeare's plays in this apartment. You don't have a collection of his sonnets. You're not even one of those chicks who owns _Romeo and Juliet_. Yet you knew _this_ by heart. Not the famous soliloquy. This. The only person who knew Hamlet by heart..."

He shook his head again. Taking my hands, he wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Jasper." My mouth dried up, and my arms went numb.

"Don't you see? You belong with me. It was as much fate that we met as it was fate that he died. You're my second chance, Bella. I should have loved him. I should have given him everything he wanted from me because he deserved it. But I threw it away because I was a fucking punk. I will _not_ do that shit with you." Still speaking at the speed of light, he pressed his lips against my forehead.

It was everything that I had suspected, that fate brought us together that night. It was what drove me to stalk him, to dismiss Jane, to lose myself. But there were other elements at play that I hadn't foreseen. This was the reason why he demanded I make this promise to him: Jasper had changed. And because of Alice, he died. On top of that, here Edward was saying everything I felt from that first night but for a reason that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with a guy he still loved.

"Edward, it _was_ fate. I know it was. But that line... Jasper had nothing to do with it. It was me. Jasper's dead."

"I know." He pushed my hair from my face, his fingers and thumbs rough on my jaw and neck as he pulled me closer.

"I'm not Jasper." I felt like I did when I found Jane's empty box of chocolate in his room at The New School. What I had expected was nothing close to the truth, and that feeling of not knowing was more dreadful than the truth itself.

"Yes, you're better. You're alive. You're here for me and only me."

I shook my head at his words. He wasn't making any sense. "You say that but you want me to make this promise that has nothing to do with me and all to do with him. How am I supposed to feel knowing that every time you look at me, you see a friend you've lost? And not just any boy? The one you love?"

"That's- That's not happening here," he stuttered. "Jasper's gone. I know it. I love _you_. I wouldn't be here telling you I want to be with you everyday because you reminded me of him."

"I want to believe you..."

"Then, believe me." He kissed my lips, my cheek, my neck. "I told you I loved you tonight. I don't throw that word around because it's fun to say. I mean it."

"Yet those lines..." I pushed his arms down and stood up. "I just want you to stop hurting. All I've done is make you remember all of this."

"It'll end tonight. I won't let Alice do what she did in high school again. Today will be the last day you're to ever see her."

"That's... That's impossible." I hugged myself, appalled.

"It's not. It's easy."

"I work for her mom."

"So quit."

"You can't be serious." He couldn't ask me to choose.

Anxiety swirled in his eyes, and he sat back on his heels, pensive.

"Christ... Damn, I shouldn't have told you all of this..."

"Of course you-" I bent down in front of him, taking his hands.

"Maybe it was too soon," he murmured, interrupting me. "I shouldn't ask you to change your life for me after a month together." He sucked his teeth. "What the fuck was I thinking?"

I didn't reply. I couldn't. I stood up again, pulling on my t-shirt and facing the window. The Pulitzer Prize awaited. Right outside, in the near future, I could feel it in my hands. I could hear the cameras going off, the flashes blinding me. Jacob wouldn't be the only export from Forks to succeed. I couldn't end the pursuit because Edward was afraid for me.

From the reflection in the mirror at the far corner of my room, I saw him rub the back of his neck.

He murmured, "I understand if my saying I love you was premature."

"It wasn't," I turned to him again, to find him standing inches away from me. I leaned into his chest and hugged him, pressing my cheek to him. "Edward, I love you. And I know you... love me."

"I do."

"Alice won't hurt me, baby. If it means anything, she's never at the office. And this fall, I'll never see her in school."

"There's only one of you in this world, and there will never be another. I could not have been lucky to have found you last month without it meaning this had to last. And it can't last if you're around her."

"Whenever she came up before, you were fine." I combed my fingers through his hair. It was so thick and long, curling around his neck now. I thought of what Alice said about her one night with Edward after Jasper died, about them needing each other to cope. He didn't tell me any of that, and I wondered why. Were they closer than Edward was telling me? Was that really why he didn't want me to remain friends with her?

No, he wasn't lying. Alice was lying. Edward wouldn't lie to me.

"It's just today," I said, my voice wavered. I cleared my throat. "You're hurting and not thinking straight. Liam's death hit you hard. Just take a step back and enjoy this. Enjoy us."

We held each other in silence for a moment until we heard raindrops tap my windowpane. Thunder rumbled low and far away but close enough. The rain was so heavy it drenched the windowsill inside my room in a matter of seconds. Edward kissed my shoulder before hurrying over to push the window down.

A thunderclap boomed right over us, and I yelped, covering my mouth.

"Hey, it's okay." He hurried back to me, hugging me tight. He was like a rock around me. His heart beat steadily beneath my ear. I was secure.

Nothing was going to happen to me as long as I was with him. I would finish my internship and everything would be fine at school. I was enrolled in the senior thesis program. Alice wasn't. This wouldn't come to a compromise as it had with Jessica and my ringtone. It wouldn't be a factor in a couple months, and I would never have contact with Alice again.

It was in that moment that I saw the clock on my night table flash "12:00" in bold red Courier.

"It's your birthday, Edward. Happy Birthday."

"Will it be?"

"Of course. I'll make it so."

"Okay." Edward shook his head, his teeth gleaming in a brief grimace. He traced a circle on the inside corner of my left breast. "Just know I don't need anything but you. And I won't share you with anyone else. Nothing will ever change you, Bella. Nothing."

* * *

**A/N Bye :)**


	24. Chapter 22 Many Happy Returns

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 22- Many Happy Returns**

**June 20, 2010**

We woke up late-morning with Edward's cell phone beeping and one solemn word from his lips, "Emmett."

"Emmett?" I repeated, watching him slide out of bed. He crouched down for his briefs, tripping over them as he tried to get them on. He fell on his ass and shook his head with a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, he's at my place wondering where I am. I forgot he was coming, but he'll understand why I'm not at my apartment once he meets you."

Blushing, I pulled the sheets up to my chest. "You want us to meet?"

"Of course." He got up on his feet, t-shirt and jeans in hand. "Emmett and my dad. They'll love you as much as I do."

As I got out of bed, his cell phone rang. He answered quietly, "Hey man, I got your text. You can stand to wait for me for ten minutes, damn." He smiled, trying to run a hand through his hair, but it was a tangled mess.

I pulled my robe on, thinking we would need more than ten minutes to get ready. I smelled like sex and sweat and my hair was a mess. Then, I heard him groan about something.

"Mom hated _Merchant of Venice._ What's the second one?" Edward picked up one of my brushes, nodding. "Well, a lot's been happening over the last couple weeks. It slipped my mind."

I thought of little Liam and walked over to him for a hug. I kissed his shoulder, pressing my cheek into his back. He was quiet for a moment, listening to Emmett's voice. I couldn't understand what Emmett said but heard how much deeper and rougher his voice was compared to Edward's.

"It had nothing to do with her." Edward listened on the other line. "Yeah. Come on..."

"_What_?" He flung the brush on my bed, pulling away from me. Shuffling over to the window, he looked out, the sound of an ice cream truck filtering in through my curtains. I couldn't hear much of the conversation until it left.

Seated at the edge of the bed, I tightened the belt of my robe and looked on, wondering for a moment why he had to keep that from me. As soon as the ice cream truck departed, Edward hung up.

With his left hand up against the wall, he called someone else. I couldn't catch who it was this time. However, I did hear him demand an extra ticket as soon as the person picked up. He yelled into the receiver, the other party's answer far from his liking. I assumed the ticket was for the Shakespearean play he had mentioned his mom hating. There must have been a show today. And really, the only coveted tickets in New York were for Shakespeare in the Park.

_Was he getting an extra ticket for me?_

"Put Victoria on the phone."

_Victoria?_ A few moments went by where all I heard was Edward breathing. I pulled my legs up and hugged them into my chest.

"Hey, Aunt Vicki. What's up?" Edward played with the white fringe on the curtain. "Yeah, I bet. So, listen... Yeah, he's here but... That can change right? But... that's never been a problem before."

Edward rubbed the back of his neck, the AC blowing at his t-shirt as he passed by.

"Aunt Vicki," Edward said. "I'll see you later." He hung up.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said to my dresser on the right side of the room. Then, he turned to me, coming back to the bed. "Nothing. Um, I have to go." He coughed, walking to the doorway.

"You... have to go."

"I won't be long. I'll be back in an hour, okay?"

"Oh." I frowned.

"I've been trying so hard to prevent this look." Edward came over to me, stroking my cheeks. "I wanna stay with you."

"But Emmett and your dad."

"My dad isn't here." Edward cleared his throat. "So, I can stay. Emmett can take care of himself."

"Where is he?"

"Home, I guess." He shrugged. "Emmett wouldn't elaborate. He said he had a gift to make it up to me. I'm sure it'll be over the top. He always overcompensates."

"I'm sorry your dad's not here."

"It's fine."

Shaking my head, I told him, "Still, Emmett came thousands of miles to see you. You should go to him."

"Bella..."

"I'll be here."

"I don't want this." He kissed my cheek, and I leaned into him.

"It's okay. It's your birthday. I'll have a surprise for you later."

I was still as he wrapped me up in a hug. Despite how tight he held me, the decision to leave was in his eyes when he pulled away.

"I'll make it up to you."

_There it was again. That phrase. What did Emmett say to make him say that to me?_

Edward left me in bed, promising again that he would hurry back.

An hour later, Beethoven sounded on my phone.

_I'm sorry. Emmett wants to talk. We'll be home a little bit later for the surprise, okay?_

_Edward: 2:37 p.m._

"Okay," I said aloud as if he were here.

Another text came in a second later. A multimedia message.

_I met Al Pacino. Isn't that cool?_

_Edward 2:38 p.m. _

The photo came up of Pacino in a navy blue t-shirt and black jeans, his skin hanging loose off his face like wet clay.

Edward sent another text.

_Clayface. D:_

_Edward 2:39 p.m._

I laughed, then held my phone to my chest. He had to hurry back. There was a surprise left to make.

Baking a chocolate cake from scratch was something I had done many times before for Jacob, for my mom, and even one time for dad. But making this for Edward was like making a child. I spent more time measuring ingredients than I should have. After I threw out the first batch of frosting for being too sweet, I spent an hour researching the best chocolate frosting recipe. Then, I went down to the bodega to get real cocoa and confectioner's sugar.

The kitchen was illuminated by indigo light by the time my oven timer dinged. I checked my phone. 7:39 p.m.

"Where are you?"

The cake cooled. I saw a reminder on my phone for a project due tomorrow but ignored it. I frosted the first layer of the cake. Then, I sent Edward a text.

_Your surprise is almost ready._

_Me: 8:25 p.m._

I licked the spoon, staring at my phone for a good minute before deciding to act less like a stalker and more like a girlfriend. He picked up on the first beep.

"We're in a cab on our way back. I swear." He sounded breathless.

"What happened?"

"It's a long boring story. What's my surprise?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?"

"Did I ever tell you that I love surprises?"

"No, but even if you hated them, you would love this one."

"Is it something only for me? Can I share it with Emmett?"

I heard him shuffle the phone and mumble something.

"Oh, actually, I hope it's all for me. Emmett's an old man who wants to 'turn in' early." He spoke away from the phone. "Who says 'turn in'? You're turning into grandpa."

I didn't reply. I couldn't. _Did I do or say something? _

"Bella? Hello?"

"Um..." I cleared my throat. "That's too bad."

"He wants to meet up tomorrow for lunch, though."

"Sorry, Bella." I heard the older brother say. He almost sounded like he meant it.

"That's...t..that sounds great. I look forward to it."

"See you in a few, baby."

I shut my eyes, holding in all the paranoia and the hurt. Emmett knew nothing about me. _We hadn't exchanged words. He couldn't hate me. I was being foolish. The important thing was that my baby was coming home. _It was his word, not mine.

"Bye."

**Many Happy Returns**

June 21, 2011

It was a strange morning, Monday. For one, I couldn't find anything good to wear. This amused Edward, of course, as I ran around my room in my underwear trying to find something decent.

"I think you should go exactly like this," Edward said between kisses. "You're beautiful."

I walked into the office around eight a.m., wrinkled blouse, jeans, and unwashed hair. From my periphery, I saw Kate raise an eyebrow. _She can't hate me for coming in at eight for an _internship_, can she? For goodness sakes._

"What happened to you?"

She was the second to last person I wanted to talk to about what happened, Jessica being the last. Yesterday was not a day I wanted to rehash. With her crossed arms, I paused, calibrated, and realized Kate had no interest whatsoever in my well-being. She was expectant.

_I should have done something..._

Recalling the dozen or so things due today concerning Kate's blog, I should have done a lot. My excuses wouldn't cut it.

"Um, I'll get right on it," I stammered, rushing to my desk. I dropped my satchel to the floor, tapping the "On" button for the Mac. To the right of the Mac was the to-do list I had prepared on Friday.

_To do this weekend: Draft questions for Kate's interview with Simon; Schedule a meeting this week for an interview with Simon; Design the blog layout for Monday's staff meeting._

"Get right on what?" Kate asked. "It's not happening. Simon's in London, Bella."

"Wh- Oh, okay." My stomach dropped to the ground floor. I should have known he'd be in London. Why act surprised and dig a deeper grave? I twisted my hair around my finger and pulled it over my shoulder, looking anywhere but Kate's eyes. "London. That's cool."

"Yeah, I just found out this morning," Jessica chimed in from her desk behind us. Her hair was straight and shiny. And she dressed like she was on her way to a luncheon with President Obama.

"Thank you," Kate said, her tone clipped. "That will be all, Jessica."

That pubic hair around the rotting pussy of a prostitute buried her head into a thick burgundy address book. I couldn't tell for whom it was, nor did I have the time to inspect it. It wasn't too hard of a guess, though.

"Bella, I need to see you in Esme's office now." Kate turned for the hallway leading down to the other offices. Hesitating, I let go of my hair, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans.

"Now." Kate repeated, without losing a step or turning her head. I jumped, speed-walking behind her.

A sense of deja-vu hit me as I recalled one of the first times I walked down the hallway to meet with Kate. She had faith that I would be an editor one day. As she opened the door to Esme's office, I had a feeling all the faith she had in me was gone.

All I could think about in the next few moments was that this was the final strike.

"Sit please. This won't take long." She shut the door behind me.

Sitting at the chair's edge, I watched her slowly round Esme's wide steel desk then stand in the middle for a second to face me. She leaned forward and walked to the window facing Times Square. All I could see from up here were the dazzling billboards. It was as if there were no people alive except for Kate and me.

"You know how important this was, Bella. You remember our conversation. It has been my dream to run something like this blog since I was little, but I haven't been able to get it running because of your irresponsibility."

"I know, what I did was inexcusable but we can get Simon next week..."

"I know. Jessica already has. But that's not the point. You had an assignment, and you failed to complete it."

"I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough."

She turned her head to the side, sliding her ring finger along the edge of the desk. She went back and forth until her fingertip became pink.

"I don't want to do this, I really don't. But I'm gonna have to end this internship today."

Time stopped. The shame flowed through my veins for what seemed like an eternity. I stared at her, slack-jawed. My fingers were numb.

"You're not gonna cry, are you?" I thought I heard Kate say. "That shouldn't surprise me..."

"Umm." Shock didn't allow the emotional capacity for tears.

"If it makes you feel any better, Esme really liked you. And... I did too."

"Oh."

"Maybe you can find another publication this summer..."

Rubbing my cheeks, I shut my eyes, remembering my first day here. Two strikes in the span of two hours. It should have been enough to clue me in. There wouldn't be any more magazines.

"Bella, I'm sorry, but I have a lot to do."

"Right. I'll just get my bag. I-It was nice meeting you. I really- I learned so... Thank you." I managed to come up with.

"Good luck." Her hazel eyes glimmered a little. A muscle twitched beneath her eye, and I figured this decision affected her more than she expected. Still, it wasn't enough to save me.

I crossed the threshold with another sense of deja vu. The first day I was here, after Kate had summoned me to Esme's office, I had headed down the hallway with a sense of him in my bones. Electric currents had raced through me, and I wanted nothing but his arms around me. I needed nothing but him.

With each step I took now, the familiar tingles traveled down the backs of my legs and to the soles of my feet.

Edward was here.

He was here, and I craved him. No matter how loudly the nagging feminist roared that this was all his fault, I didn't listen. I heard nothing but her taunts. I could feel her bristle and see her sneer. She hated him as much as I loved him. She had dreams of which he stood in the way and stewed in disgust because she could do nothing about it. As I rounded the corner and saw him at the office door, she and I battled it out with one statement besting the both of us.

_Edward got his birthday wish._

"Hey," his eyes crinkled in the corners when he spotted me. "You forgot your tablet." He shook it at me, then a frown marred his beauty. "What's wrong?"

"I've gotta leave." My voice sounded so far away, like it was coming from someone else.

His eyes searched mine from across the way and the tingling intensified to a feverish pulse.

"Why?" He tilted his head, thoughtful for a second before grinning sheepishly. "Oh, errand run?"

I closed the distance between us, nodding. When he took my hands in his, I shut my eyes, almost forgetting where we were, wanting so badly to be anywhere else. An all too brutal reality greeted me when I heard...

"Great!" Jolted into the present, I shot nails into Jessica's skull and twisted her neck around in my mind. "Can you get a latte for me? I'm about to pass out from all of this new work Kate has dumped on me. Thanks!"

I shuffled passed her for my things, Edward close behind me. Crouching down for my satchel, I noticed the little red light on my phone blinking. I didn't want to know what the message was and jammed my phone into my back pocket. Then, pulling my arms through the arm handles, I stood up and greeted Edward at the door. My head bowed the entire way, I snuck a peek of Jessica's screen. She was on a page, typing code in what looked like a text box. The top of the page read "Wordpress" in blue and white.

"You won't take too long," the sycophant whined. When I looked up, I saw her concentrated on the screen, typing away as if I wasn't there.

I had nothing left to say to her. So, I didn't say a thing. Edward took my right hand in his, lending me his strength.

Trudging to the elevator, I realized my anger was misguided. She had performed no foul play. I was the one who choked at the last minute and struck down...or out...or whatever that stupid baseball phrase was.

All these years of living with Charlie, and I still knew nothing about the sport. He would laugh at me now. He knew I would fail all along. He knew my dream was too big.

"Bella, what's wrong?" Edward's voice was warm in my ear, and it was enough. My God, it was the end. When I didn't reply, he pressed on. "What happened this morning?"

"It doesn't matter." I looked up into his eyes, remembering all the time I spent yesterday preparing a cake he didn't even eat. "Let's go home."

"Home? I thought you had coffee to pick up?"

I shook my head, pressing the clear plastic button for the first floor. It was the last time I would get a chance to do this.

"No, I'm going home for good."

"What does that mean?" Edward tried to stand in my line of sight, but I sidestepped him. "Hey," he said, louder, holding me by my arm. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. You got what you wanted." I stared down at the floor, my stomach flipping as the elevator car sped down to ground level. "I'll never have to see Alice again because... Because I'll never have to come here again."

"Bel- your internship is done?"

I nodded, the car slowing down around us.

"Why? How? I thought you were doing great?"

The elevator came to a halt and the light for "1" went out.

"I wasn't..."

"Shit! Did Jessica have something to do with this?"

The doors opened and about a dozen people converged in the car. We moved over to the right, Edward taking my hand and pulling me out. I walked into his arms, resting my head on his chest.

"No... It was me," I replied quietly.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry, baby."

I hugged him tight, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to forget the last time we were together like this in the lobby of this building. Jessica had been the worst of my problems. I had wanted her to stay as far away from Edward as possible. Today, he was invisible to her as she worked on a project I should have completed because he could never be invisible to me.

"Don't be. It's my fault. It's me."

Edward lifted my face up and kissed my cheek. "I'll make it better, okay?" he whispered in my ear. "This is nothing. You don't need them."

Holding onto him, I wanted so badly to deny him. I needed The New Yorker, and I should have fought harder for it. However, the moment I looked up into his eyes, I realized I was too weak to demand anything from Kate. Jessica was stronger than I was. She deserved the internship. I didn't.

"Bella, say something. Come on."

"Let's go home."


	25. Chapter 23 Giraffes

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 23- Giraffes**

**June 23, 2010**

Emmett didn't like me.

I wasn't certain of this at first, having never met him. Edward tried to assure me of his "cool factor" everyday during his time here. He rehabilitated drug addicts for a living. He saves crippled pigeons from the street. He likes babies. But as we drew near the date of Emmett's departure, he never took the chance to get to know me. It seemed like he was always too busy or too tired. The morning I was fired from The New Yorker, he bailed on lunch with us, claiming he had an important phone call with one of his clients. How he could be "too busy" to meet me during a vacation was beyond Edward's comprehension. Despite this, Edward was insistent on us getting to know each other, right up to today, Emmett's last day in New York.

Digging into a huge slice of chocolate cake in my kitchen, he continued to justify his brother's actions.

"He's from L.A. What do you expect?" Edward mumbled, cocking his right eyebrow. Wiping chocolate frosting off of his chin with a napkin, he grinned. His white teeth were marred by the dark chocolate. It had been his food of choice since Sunday.

"Should've known better. Want some milk?"

He nodded, scooping up a gob of frosting from the plate. He was insatiable. In four days, he consumed the entire thing, and by the looks of it, he had room for so much more.

Getting up from his lap, I backed away to the fridge, watching him look me up and down with every step. As I opened the fridge, I heard him groan and giggled.

"What did you put in here?" I thought he said through the gooey cake in his mouth. He smacked his lips. "I swear to God it's making me hard."

"I've made you harder." I turned away from him and poured the milk into a tall glass onto the counter.

A fingertip on my right shoulder made me jump, and I pivoted to face him only to find empty air.

"Boo!" I heard near my left ear.

"Edward!" I twisted to my left and his arms circled my hips, pulling me into his body. He bent his knees, standing at eye-level with me. "You're something else, you know that?" I ruffled his hair, his scalp warm beneath my palm.

He didn't respond, his goofy grin falling and his eyes glowing with an intense solemness.

"I've never had chocolate cake this good. Hell, any chocolate."

Thoughts and memories whirled, and my heart felt like it was on a hundred meter dash. _Any chocolate? Jacques Torres Chocolates?_

"It's not gourmet or anything..."

"You're right. It's not. It's better."

"I don't... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. You just have to make another one tomorrow." He kissed my cheek. Then, slowly, he pulled me into him again, breathing me in deeply.

"I could make you chocolate cake everyday for the rest of your life if you'd like."

I hitched my breath as soon as the words left my mouth. _As if, Bella. He'll stay with you if you're lucky. And after last week, luck isn't on your side._

"I like that." He kissed my neck. "The rest of my life..."

"Or whenever." I gulped.

He brought his warm lips up to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe.

"It wouldn't be forward if I asked to move in with you, would it?" he whispered, warmth fanning my ear and neck.

I blinked, unsure if I had heard him right.

"What?" I squeaked as he stood up to face me again. He bit his upper lip then broke out into a smile.

"You should see your face right now. You're whiter that the milk in this glass." He lifted it for good measure.

I took the glass from him, hiding my blush behind it as I took a long drink. We had been sharing sheets since day one in this place. He even brought some of his stuff here last weekend. For the rest of his life wasn't so far-fetched after all. But I didn't want to stay in this apartment, and Edward was too special to stay here.

With a grin, he kissed my shoulder. When I didn't answer him, he dropped his arms from my waist and moseyed on over to the table.

"It would be forward..." he said over his shoulder, scooping up more cake.

"There's just a lot to-" I started.

"So, it's a bad idea," he mumbled through it before I could finish. I met him at the table, wrapping my arms around his shoulders this time.

"It's not. I've wanted to leave here for a while now. There's gotta be a better place to live."

"You mean like my place?" he asked, his voice losing the vigor from before, sounding much darker. I picked up his empty plate, shaking my head. Wiping some of the frosting off with my finger, he bent his head and sucked it before I could.

"Hey!"

"Good stuff!" He smacked his lips and I giggled, giving him a peck on his lips. Walking back to the sink, he continued his former thought. "So, not my place..."

Carefully, I placed the plate in the sink, staring down at the steam rising. We were silent for a time, the heat in my kitchen stifling as I took a deep breath. Chocolate and a hint of vanilla extract lingered in the air. Those scents and something else, something that made me turn away from the sink and face him again. Irish Spring. It was the scent signifying my real home.

"I like this place fine." He startled me again, standing an inch away. Then, he nuzzled my neck and held me in his arms. "Right here," he whispered.

"We can't stay here forever."

He murmured something into my neck that I didn't understand.

"As if I could understand that." I giggled.

"I wanna be wherever you are," he said, raising his face to mine. Dropping his hands to my hips, he pulled me in closer.

"Even in this roach-infested dump?"

He chuckled, nuzzling my neck again.

"Even if there were snakes in your bed."

We laughed and kissed our way out of the kitchen, our clothing leaving a trail on the way to my bedroom.

"I feel a snake in your boxers." I giggled as he tickled my side, then ran over the threshold to escape him. This was a new experience for us, being so playful with one another. It might have been because this was the first time nothing else made sense in our lives except for us.

Edward pulled his boxers off, flinging them behind him. His cock waved at me, and I laughed some more.

"It looks like it's ready to strike.," I was delighted by our corniness. We were passed the stage of pretenses. We could be comfortable because there were no more secrets between us.

"I promise, this will be the best snake bite you will ever..." _kiss _"... have."

Eventually, his kisses silenced us. Leading me to the bed, he pulled me into his arms, his eyes alight with mischief. Every so often, though, he would blink and I would see sorrow. He held me too tight near the end, as if I would disappear, as if that were even possible.

"I'm here," I whispered before a deep long kiss. When he pulled away, he tucked his face onto my shoulder. I stroked the back of his head and neck, listening to him breathe. When he lifted his head, he was chagrined. _I'm alive. _I wanted to say this aloud to him but thought it might take him to a place even darker.

"Hey." I stroked his cheeks, which were smoother than usual. That's when I realized it may just be nerves. "You're worried about your second audition. Don't be, baby. You'll do fine." _You will inspire others as you have inspired me._ "You will be a great Macbeth."

He shook his head, kissing me again. Then, he kissed down my cheek to my ear as he entered me. He squeezed my hips with his hands, going deeper, rendering the both of us speechless until he came. His breaths were hot and shaky. I felt raw and exhausted for him. Lying on top of me, his face remained buried in my neck.

I combed his hair with my fingers, traveling down the longer waves. I didn't want to break the silence. A few minutes later, he did it for me.

"I gotta get outta here."

"Um... okay. Okay."

"I don't mean from you or here, in this apartment," he grumbled. "I'm sorry. I'm such an asshole."

"You're not. I understand. You have an audition."

He sat up, scooting over to the side of the bed, swinging his long legs to the floor. He faced away from me, picking at some lint on my sheets.

"Emmett said dad's gift is ready. Are you free? I need you there with me."

"No, I have a deadline to meet at the magazine." I rolled my eyes. "Of course I'm free."

Abruptly, Edward stood up, trudging over to the dresser. He opened a drawer where he had brought some of his underwear over since his birthday.

"How could you joke about that?" He grabbed a t-shirt and some briefs, shoving the drawer closed.

"It's not like it's the end of the world." I pulled my knees up to my chest, watching his long stride to the doorway. He stopped at my words, tapping the door frame.

"You've wanted to work there since you were a teenager..." He faced me, scratching his ear. "I know you're hurting." Our eyes met for a second before I looked away. "You know how I feel about you holding anything back from me. Let it out, Bella."

"I'm not hurting," I murmured. I rested my cheek on my knees, looking towards the windows. "I'm fine. I have school coming up, and more opportunities will come. There'll be other internships."

I didn't hear him reply. When I looked up, expecting his brooding stare, he was gone.

***Giraffes***

"Thanks for meeting me up here." Edward hugged me at the sidewalk's edge outside of an imposing gray building later that afternoon. In his black t-shirt and black jeans, his hair was wild and his hands red. A couple of guys in the same outfits walked through the sliding doors behind Edward, cursing up a storm about an anonymous "dick" that "didn't know the difference between talent and hacks."

When Edward pulled away, he was bleary-eyed and his cheeks were flushed. I tried to take his hands but a couple of crumbled pieces of paper were in his right hand.

"What's that?"

"Nothing." He furrowed his eyebrows, crumbling up the paper into a ball and throwing it into a garbage can behind me. Around the corners and edges, I saw a stage cue for Lady Macbeth.

"You didn't get it." I frowned, cupping his chin.

He bowed his head and made a low whistle. Slowly, he shook his head and leaned against me again. His smooth jaw rubbed into my neck, back and forth.

"Baby..." I began.

"No, don't start."

He backed away a couple steps, but I reached out to stop him.

"It's okay. This..." I paused, remembering his words to me after I was fired. "This is nothing. You don't need them."

He gave me a sad smile, staring at my hands on his forearm. Then, he led me to the curb.

"Taxi!" He raised his hand.

"Where're we going?" I asked as a yellow cab stopped at Edward's feet. He kissed my cheek, opening the door for me.

"To be determined. Get in." He ran around the back of the cab to the passenger door behind the driver. Crossing my legs, I watched him slide in gracefully. He shut the door, taking my hands as he told the driver, "70th and 5th."

"Upper East Side? Isn't that... near the Met?"

He turned to me, nodding, kissing my palms. "It's one of my father's favorite parts of the city. And mine."

"We should go there more often, then. I haven't been to the Met as often as I should." _Really never._

"I'd like that." Edward mused, his eyes far away. As we stopped at a light, he said, "Emmett's meeting us."

"Oh no."

Edward rubbed the back of my hands with his thumbs, shaking his head.

"Quit being so afraid of him."

"It's not as if _you _have to impress him." I pouted.

"I'm not asking you to. Just be the great girl you are. You're perfect." He leaned his head back against the dark gray leather.

Blushing, I looked out my passenger window, uncrossing my legs.

"What do you think it is?"

He shrugged. "A giraffe maybe? I can never guess. Ever since I was, I don't know, ten? He's gotten these outlandish gifts for all of us. My mom loved sushi. So for her birthday one year, he flew in the best sushi chef in the world, Jiro Ono, to L.A. for a week. He had his own restaurant to run in Tokyo, but that didn't matter to dad. He wanted something, so he got it."

"That's..." _No words for what that was._

"It's called a God complex." Edward chewed on his lip and rolled his eyes. "If you wanna worry about impressing anyone, it should be Dr. Carlisle Cullen. But he's not here so stop being so fucking sensitive."

I folded my arms, scooting away from him.

"Look, just cause you had a bad audition and your dad spoiled you, doesn't mean you can talk to me like that."

"Bella, for God's sake! Not now, alright?"

I turned to him, hugging my left leg up to my chest.

"I'm not gonna fight with you about this. Don't take your funk out on me, that's all."

"Alright fine. Then I don't wanna hear anything for the next twenty minutes. Can you manage that?"

"Fuck! You can be so condescending!"

"Shh-" He bared his teeth, then pressed his lips together.

"What? What were you gonna say?"

"Nothing. I'm gonna let it go, alright?"

"Good!"

"Great!" Edward squinted, looking out the window. He ran his hands through his hair repeatedly and rubbed the back of his neck, two things I hated to see him do. He was so out of sorts. I couldn't make it worse for him.

I twisted my hair up, rolling it into a bun at the nape of my neck. I was so sick of its length and weight. I had never had it this long in my life and was so close to chopping it all off.

The short jingle from Beethoven's second movement floated up and out of my front pocket. Yanking it out, I saw it was a text message from Alice. Edward did, too.

"Don't say anything, alright? I don't know what she wants."

"You can do whatever you want with that message. I couldn't care less, really." His gaze shifted to the lush greenery surrounding us, his body unmoved.

I didn't need his permission to read her message, but I was thankful we didn't have yet another fight about Alice.

_Hey, I need you to drop off the tablet at The New Yorker tomorrow. My mom doesn't want you to keep any records. I'm sorry._

_Alice 6:25 p.m._

I held the phone in my hands so tight they hurt. My eyes burned, and my throat began to swell from an oncoming sob.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Edward's rough palm rubbed my forearm. "What did she say?"

"Nothing." I sounded like a frog. I grimaced, holding back the gallon of tears I had in me.

A tear fell when he turned to face me for the first time in five minutes. Then came the deluge. I couldn't stop. They wouldn't stop. Edward pet my hair as I let it all out. All of the shock and self-hate I had brushed aside manifested into tears, soaking through Edward's soft t-shirt.

"It's gonna be okay," he murmured, his deep voice surrounding me in love.

When we arrived at the exit of the park, my face and throat were raw. The cab driver stopped and I lifted my face from Edward's chest. He held my hand.

"We can talk about it later if you'd like," Edward said, wiping my cheeks. "While you make me another chocolate cake." He grinned, kissing my forehead.

"Okay." We hugged. As we pulled away, that's when I saw him.

"Emmett," I whispered as Edward swiped his credit card on the terminal.

He was leaning against the black steel beam beneath a forest green awning, the golden numbers "880" in script across the middle. He was as big as a professional football player - the big ones that block the quarterback. His dark curly head was bent over his phone, and he laughed with his entire body at what was on the screen. When Edward opened the door, Emmett looked up with a smile, his dark eyes mirthful. But when I got out of the cab, I noticed a twitch of his lip before his smile returned. That twitch was something I ignored in that moment as Edward introduced us.

"Hi, Bella."

"Hi."

I was too shy, which Edward pointed out, pinching the short sleeve of my t-shirt.

"She'll come out of her shell, eventually," Emmett replied, pushing his phone into his back pocket.

"That's right." Edward took my right hand, holding it in both of his. "So, I think I've waited long enough. What did Dad get me?"

"Umm..." Emmett dug into his pocket, producing two folded sheets of paper. "Here." He handed them to Edward.

When Edward unfolded the papers, he stood back a little so I couldn't see the contents. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read, looked up at Emmett, then looked at me. Then, he folded them back to its original size.

"Why?" Edward's voice was faint.

"It was a wedding gift."

I turned to face Edward, my hands and arms going numb. _Wedding gift?_

"Edward?" I gulped, my mouth dry. _Of course he hadn't told his dad about me yet. I wasn't important enough. _

"I told _you_ I broke it off," Edward said. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"I've been traveling the coast, doing intervention workshops, remember? I didn't have a chance to talk to him until right before I flew here."

"Well... Okay, then I don't want it."

"It's not something he can give back so easily. It's all you, Ed."

"No one told him to..." Edward stopped, looked at me, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Who do I have to talk to to sell it?"

"I told you, it's yours. You can do whatever you want with it. You saw your name on the contract."

"Fine." Edward unfolded the paper again, searching for something. When he found it, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Emmett asked with a thick eyebrow raised.

"Calling the agent. I'm selling this."

"Agent?" I asked. "And this contract... Hey, what's going on?"

He just stared at me, his thick hair flying about his face from the breeze, waiting for this "agent" to pick up the phone.

"Yo, you're not gonna tell her?" Emmett nodded my way.

"Dad's getting his money back," was all Edward said as he hung up.

Edward led us into the gorgeous building, through the revolving doors. A kind, older gentleman with sleepy blue eyes was seated at the front desk ahead of us. He pointed to the elevators with an arthritic forefinger.

My heart raced with each step. Edward needed to speak to this agent to give his dad his money back? He had crumpled contracts in his hand with his name on it? His dad bought extravagant gifts for his family, this being one of the most important in his life: a wedding gift?

Of course his dad bought him an apartment, a Co-op to be precise. And it wasn't just any Co-op. When we entered the elevator car, Edward punched the button that read "PH E."

"Penthouse?" I asked. I shook my head, taking a long deep breath.

Emmett cleared his throat as Edward replied.

"I know this is weird right now, but it won't be a problem in a few hours, okay?" Edward glanced at me as he smoothed out the sheets in his hands.

"You know it'll take months before you get rid of this," Emmett said as the golden elevators slid open, quickly averting his gaze from mine. His black eyelashes were as long as Edward's. "Just take it. Dad's not gonna be around to help you change anything."

"Why the hell not? The bastard caused this shit, and he won't be around to fix it?"

"I've already told you. Dad's busy," Emmett said, following Edward to the hallway. There were only two doors, and one of them was a set of black doors to another elevator. Those were to our right. Ahead, there was a door painted white with a red bow tied on the bronze doorknob.

"Defiling a harem? Buying..." Edward's voice shook, and he paused, licking his lips. "Buying a hotel in Abu Dhabi? What the fuck could he be so busy with that he couldn't come here?"

Standing furthest away from the door, I watched Edward. The tips of his ears were pink and his shoulders were tense, so tense. I went to him, taking his left hand in both of mine. As soon as our fingers intertwined, Emmett frowned.

"It doesn't concern her," he replied, his voice cooler than his younger brother's.

_Oh God. Here it comes._

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Edward scowled, squeezing my hand so tight I winced.

Emmett turned away, his thick neck and dark curly hair like a brick wall to us.

"Emmett..."

"There's a lot going on with dad, alright? And I don't want to go into it right now."

"Why? Because Bella's here?"

"Yes. This is private."

Edward let go of my hands, crossing his arms.

"I'm not keeping anything from her and neither should you."

Walking over to the door, he undid the ribbon. It floated to the floor as he said, "Uh huh. Check this place out, alright? Dad really spent a lot of time trying to get this for you. Don't throw it away."

"That's all you gotta say?"

Emmett sighed, cocking his head back and covering his eyes with his right hand.

"For fucks sake, Ed, it's a partially-furnished duplex with two terraces. Don't be a jerk."

"You know this is more than just about..."

Emmett turned around to face us, shaking his head.

"I know _exactly _what this shit is about, more than even you do. Dad just wants stability for you."

"Stability..." Edward walked ahead of me so I couldn't see his face. I could see Emmett's though. His eyes made my stomach flip.

"We want what's best for you," Emmett replied in a low whisper. "Things will be different this time. You will be stronger." There was genuine concern in his eyes and worry in his voice. It was as if something happened before and Emmett was afraid it would happen again. It had to be about Jasper. Maybe Edward didn't bounce back from his death as quickly as his family had hoped...or as I had hoped. And even worse, something about the way Emmett had been acting made me feel as if he thought I would conjure it up. In fact, it seemed like he thought I already had.

"Edward," I whispered, my throat dry. The way Emmett's gaze remained so steady, I didn't think he heard me. When Edward turned to me, I clutched my chest, my heart pounding. I wanted to know what Emmett was trying not to say, but I couldn't act on it.

_"You're not gonna do this again. You're not gonna question me."_

That's what Edward had demanded of me all those weeks ago in his apartment. Since then, I hadn't. I only wanted him to be okay. Whatever happened to him before didn't matter. I never wanted to see his eyes as wounded as they were when he spoke about Jasper. Never again.

"Bella, I love you." Edward said, stroking my cheek. Emmett sucked his teeth, opening the door the penthouse and walking inside.

"I- I love you, too. You- Move in. It's already paid for."

Rubbing the back of his neck, he twisted his neck around to Emmett, who had disappeared inside, then looked at me.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"It's a penthouse on the Upper East Side. How can you pass it up? I wouldn't."

"Really?"

"No way."

He leaned in, his eyes hypnotizing and alive. He took my hands again.

"So, move in with me."

"Yo, Edward! You gotta see this view!" Emmett called out from inside. "You can see the Empire State Building from here!"

I exhaled, looking over Edward's shoulder, pulling my hands out of his. "Wow! Let's go see what Emmett's talking about!" I hurried to the door, figuring that whatever Emmett found inside this place would be a better topic than what Edward just said outside of it. He grabbed my hand before I could see more, though, and turned me around.

"You're gonna make me beg, aren't you?" He pursed his lips.

"I-I don't think we can talk about this now."

"Why not? We both hate where we live. And you just said..."

"Edward, it's not that simple. Your dad had expectations. And I can't sell my place. I'll have to sublet it."

"No you don't. I'll cover your rent."

Shaking my head, I was taken aback by how insistent he was. "Edward! I can't ask you to do that for me."

"I wouldn't be doing it for you. I'd be doing it for us."

"Look," Emmett interrupted us from the doorway. "If you don't wanna live here, I'll move in." He walked up to us, scratching the diamond stud in his ear.

"Emmett, I need some time with Bella," Edward said with a cocked eyebrow.

"You've had enough time, man."

"Don't be such a dick, alright?"

"Hey!" Emmett walked behind Edward, grabbing his shoulder and shoving him. "Don't you see how messed up this is? You can't do this with...her."

"What's your problem with Bella, huh?"

"Nothing. This isn't about her."

"Yeah right. Just say it." Edward crossed his arms.

"You really wanna know?" Emmett copied his pose, his biceps bulging from his blue polo shirt.

"Yeah, I do."

"Alright... You're not ready for her, man."

"The hell I'm not. You don't know anything about us."

"You told me everything I needed to know last month when you said you fell for her." Emmett pointed his thumb at me from his arm pit. "It's only been a month. You're not thinking this through."

Emmett didn't understand us. He couldn't. All he knew were dates and what little Edward told him. He didn't know that I knew the truth about Jasper. I couldn't say this aloud, however. I knew I would only make things worse if I did.

Edward sneered. Then, he stared down at the contract. His eyes scanned both pages before he took my left hand. With a glance at me, he whispered the same question he'd been asking all day today. I couldn't fathom an answer earlier. Too many improprieties had played over and over in my mind. My place was shit. It wasn't worthy of him.

Now, with his arms wrapped around me, I looked into his eyes and with every blink, the old wound reappeared, as deep as the one I had opened when he told me about Jasper.

"Move in with me, Bella."

I stared at Emmett, who stood a few steps behind Edward. Level. Steady. I would be everything Emmett thought this Co-op would be. Whatever happened before wouldn't happen again because Edward had me. And there wouldn't be a flash of hurt in his eyes or a drop of pain in his voice or any more remnants of old wounds. I would be his stability.

"Okay." I shifted my gaze back to Edward, the hairs on the back of my neck and arms prickling. From my periphery, Emmett bristled. Before me, Edward hitched his breath, and his eyes glowed.

"Okay, I will. I'll move in with you."

* * *

**A/N: Bye. :)**


	26. Chapter 24 Green

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 24- Green**

**June 24, 2010**

My stomach was tied in knots as I waited for Alice.

The walls were the same at The New Yorker office. The desks were just as pristine. The Mac hadn't been touched. I sat in the reception area, glancing every so often at the isolated island where I thought my future in journalism would begin. Clutching my tablet to my chest, a wave of nausea swept over me. Everything looked the same but everything was different because Jessica wasn't here.

She wasn't behind the receptionist desk, updating Kate's blog or mailing manuscripts or texting some poor schmuck. Instead, one of our peers from school, that airhead Lauren, sat there for the last twenty minutes answering the phone. That wasn't what brought on the nausea, though. Jessica's absence made my heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly; it was where she was that made me green.

When I asked Lauren why she was filling in, she said Jessica was out on assignment.

"Really?" I rolled my eyes. "Doing what? Dry cleaning for Kate?"

Lauren giggled a little too loudly and said the last thing I would have ever expected her to say.

"Nope. She's in London. She had an interview with Simon Von Booy. She must be sipping tea with him now." Lauren giggled again, shoving a thin manuscript into a large white envelope. "Can you believe she's the first intern ever, in the history of this magazine, to travel for an interview? Kate says she wants her to take over her position as soon as she's done with school."

No, I couldn't believe it. I licked my dry lips, my mouth sour from bile. No, nothing was the same. Jessica was flying, literally. Meanwhile, I had possibly lost my chance at a life-long dream. My stomach flipped as the reason behind this turn of events pushed into the forefront in my mind. My _home_. My _love_. My _life_.

"So, what you been up to since...you know?" Lauren asked, shifting her eyes to me.

I did not want to answer that and thankfully, I didn't have have to. Alice breezed in as soon as a lame excuse reached the tip of my tongue.

"Hey, Bella," Alice chimed. It wasn't warm and tinkly, though. Her dark eyes met mine, cold as a winter snap. "Great! You have the tablet all ready. I'll take it."

Handing it over to her, I watched her hand shake. She grabbed it before throwing it in her brown leather hobo bag.

My stomach was on a tightrope, falling off, hanging onto the thin rope for dear life.

"Are you alright?" Alice asked, her forehead scrunching up. "You look a little green, like you're about to throw up."

I swallowed down more bile. My tongue was as heavy as a brick.

"Bella?" Alice raised her hand to my shoulder. "Hey, Lauren, can you get some water?"

The thought of ingesting anything right now made my stomach do somersaults. I ran to the bathroom, covering my mouth.

When I was done, I saw Lauren right outside of the door with a paper cup in hand. Alice stood behind her. Her eyes were warm.

"Are you alright? Have you been eating well?" she asked as I took a swig of the cold water. It soothed my stomach.

"I'm fine." I handed the cup back to Lauren, who patted my back and plopped into her chair to answer the phone. I shook my head, angry at myself for judging her so quickly. _So what if she wasn't the smarte__st girl? She was nice. I was far from it._ I glanced up at Alice. "Was there anything else you needed from me?"

"Yeah, I need to talk to you. Come out into the hall with me?"

"Uh okay. Thank you, Lauren."

"You're welcome. Feel better!" She smiled, a genuine smile, a smile I never saw cross Jessica's face, and turned back to her work.

Following Alice out to the hallway, I crossed my arms, cold from the AC. That was something else that was different since I left. It was freezing now.

"I'm gonna cut right to the chase," Alice began. "Emmett was here, wasn't he?"

"What? How-" I bit my lip. "How'd you know?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. Are you stalking me?"

"No, I just know what's going on, alright?"

"That's not good enough." I crossed my arms. "How did you know about Emmett?"

"I did _not_ come out here to be interrogated. I just have to know one thing."

"Why should I tell you anything? All you've done is lie to me about Edward. You and I both know he didn't sleep with you. You just said that to get me to leave him." I tried not to come to this conclusion, but by her bringing up Emmett, it made so much sense.

"Oh, you really think so, huh?"

"Yeah, I do. And Edward's past doesn't matter to me. He's worked through it, and he's fine now."

She looked me up and down with a half smile. "Emmett is a straightforward guy. He speaks his mind all the time so he must've said something. I know it." She squeezed her eyes shut. "What did he say, Bella?"

Cocking an eyebrow, I breathed through my memory of what Emmett said about Edward needing stability. I pushed down his claim that Edward wasn't ready for me and inferred that I may be a catalyst. I pushed it all the way down to the pit of my stomach until I couldn't breathe anymore. I wouldn't think about why I had to be his rock. I wouldn't remember Jane's warning... Then, Alice opened her eyes.

"Emmett doesn't want you two together, either. He thinks it's a mistake. That's what he said, isn't it?"

"That's _not_ true." I shook my head, biting down on my bottom lip like it was made of her accusations, like I wanted to cut her off.

"You can deny it. I guess I expect you to. I know Emmett, though. He can see the signs as clearly as I have. Was Carlisle there too?"

"Oh, I thought you knew everything about this family. You didn't know Carlisle didn't come?"

Alice shifted her weight from one leg to the other, furrowing her eyebrow. "No, but that was expected, too."

"Why? You know where he is?"

"No, but I know what's been going on with him. Emmett didn't tell you that part, did he?"

"Enlighten me," I said, dry as a bone.

"He's sick, Bella. He might die."

"Oh please!"

"I would never make something like that up. My mom was devastated when she heard. I wanted to talk to Emmett to know if there have been any changes."

"Changes to what? What's he got? A tumor in his brain?"

Frantic, she nodded. "It's terminal. I don't know if it's a tumor, but he may die by the end of the year. I don't know any more than that, but Emmett does."

"Why does it matter to you if Carlisle lives or dies? He was your stepdad for like a minute."

"Those were some of the worst and lowest points in my life. Who knows where any of us would be if Carlisle wasn't there. And I know how this will affect his family..." Alice cracked her knuckles, looking away. "Especially Edward."

"Oh, now you're worried about Edward? What's with you?"

"I've always been worried about him. You can't be with him. You can't save him."

"Stop it right there! I won't listen to any more of this." I backed away to the elevators, Alice right on my heels. Repeatedly tapping the down button, I turned from her and rubbed my cheeks until they hurt.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't know. Emmett wouldn't tell you nor would he tell Edward. That means Edward still doesn't know..." Alice mused, pacing from left to right.

"So why would you tell me if even Edward wasn't supposed to know?" I threw my hands up in the air, fuming. Facing her again, I walked up to her. "You can't just leave this alone? You can't leave me alone? Why Alice?"

Shaking her head, she looked up holding her bag tight into her body. A weak sob escaped her then she sucked in a shaky breath.

"Edward needs help. You can't give it to him. None of us can, okay? You have to be strong and leave before he breaks down again."

"Why should I listen to you, huh?" The elevator bell dinged and the doors opened. "In fact, I won't listen to you. Goodbye, Alice."

"Wait!" She scurried into the car with me, blinking rapidly and playing with her pendant, the round silver one that was bent in the middle. "You can't tell him anything I just told you. He can't know this. It'll kill him."

"Alice!" Just my luck, the car doors closed, and the elevator began to race down to the first floor. It was express to the first floor. I couldn't get off and into another elevator. I backed into the steel handrail, the air vent blowing cold hair right onto my face.

"Bella, he... nearly destroyed himself after Jasper died. It was only three years after his mom passed away. He was inconsolable."

"You want me to lie to him about something as important as his father's health? I do that and he'll definitely leave, which is what you want. So, no, I'm not keeping this from him."

"You have to! You don't... Just ask Emmett. Look!" She dug into her pocket for her phone. "I'll text you his phone number. You can ask him yourself! And he'll tell you. Edward can't face this right now."

"Emmett would never speak to me about this."

She typed away anyway, hitting send. A second later, I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. It was the strangest instance of irony. I spent weeks awaiting Facebook messages from one Cullen, whom I adored above all else. Now, I had in my pocket instant access to the Cullen who wanted nothing to do with me. _Thanks fates. Thanks a lot for nothin'._

"Please promise you won't tell Edward! And call Emmett now. He'll tell you what you need to know to protect Edward. He will!"

The elevator car slowed down. When the doors opened, Alice stood, awaiting my response. The lobby was empty with no one crowded around us to get in.

"You have to love him enough to protect him. Emmett does. Please listen to me. We wanna see Edward do well, and he can't if he knows about this."

Stepping around her, I walked out of elevator, twisting my hair up and down one shoulder. I stopped with a sigh but straightened my shoulders. Then, I headed for the exit.

One thing I could not stand was second-hand information. I learned my lesson from Jessica, who lied about the conditions for the internship. If I needed to know what happened to Carlisle, I needed to speak to the source.

"Bella, what are you gonna do?" Alice called out. She was a few feet behind me. Thankfully, she wasn't following me out.

I glanced over my shoulder, replying, "I'm gonna find out the truth."

* * *

**A/N: Bye :)**


	27. Chapter 25 Viridian

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 25- Viridian**

**July 4, 2010**

_If Carlisle was dying and Edward wasn't with him the last days of his life, Edward would never forgive me._

That line was on a loop in my head everyday for a week. Each minute I spent keeping this from Edward was a minute he could have spent with his dad, yet I couldn't tell him anything. I couldn't rely on Alice's word, not when she was the one who caused Jasper's death and lied about sleeping with Edward.

So, I left a message for a woman who probably shared two words with me in a month. It was my only lead at this point. Emmett was the last person I wanted to speak to. I couldn't trust anyone else, and something deep down told me she wouldn't lie to me about this or about anything else.

"Hello, Ms. Evanson. It's Bella. Um, Swan. I am sorry to call you so late on a holiday. I really wanna talk to you. Can you call me back at 718-555-9000? Please, it's about Edward... Cullen."

A whispered request seated on my bathroom toilet around 11:30 p.m. It was all I could do since I trusted no one else with clearing up this harrowing news. The clock was about to strike twelve. It would mean that I would sleep another day without telling Edward about my conversation with Alice.

As I opened the door to my bathroom, tripping over an open cardboard box of toiletries, I began to second-guess my ability to be Edward's stability. I laughed at myself for stumbling over a box. How could I stand up for him when I couldn't even stand up? Literally.

On top of that, everything was changing now. Was this move to the Upper East Side a good idea? Especially now, when so many people were against us? Hell, it wasn't even the Upper East Side. I hadn't even known the name of the neighborhood I was moving into. I found out later, while googling Thai restaurants nearby, that it was "Lenox Hill".

I had to move in with him, though. I promised him I wouldn't change. He needed me to stay with him. Through no fault of their own, so many people died, leaving him to suffer. I couldn't disappear like his mom had ten years ago. I would _not_ abandon him like Jasper did. I wouldn't try to control him like Jane. I wouldn't slowly crumble like little Liam. I wouldn't change. Edward deserved better. So soon after Liam's passing and learning of Carlisle's alleged condition, it wouldn't be wise to share unless it was the truth.

He was devastated after Liam died. I couldn't let him endure that kind of pain alone when he would need me the most.

"Bella? Come back to bed. I'm freezing in here!" I heard Edward's voice boom through the muggy living room air. Throwing my phone on my sofa, I hurried back to my bedroom. This summer was hot as all get out, but my room was an oasis, cool enough to need socks and a thick comforter to cover us.

I hopped onto the mattress, my sheets musky from our mingled scents. The thought of doing laundry tickled me. I wouldn't have to wash the sheets for this bed ever again. Well, if I was lucky. Edward bought a king-sized pillow-top mattress for us last week. It would be at 880 5th Ave. by 12 p.m. tomorrow, waiting to be christened by us. That may be our bed forever. I might never lay eyes on these sheets again.

"Come here!" Edward said, breathing me in. We spooned, a position that proved that Edward was finally satisfied for the night.

I played with the long blond hairs on his forearm, his tanned skin covered in goose pimples. "You _are_ freezing. Maybe we should turn the AC down."

"Nah, you're here to warm me up again." He pulled the comforter around us. "What took you so long, huh?" He kissed the nape of my neck. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." _Except that I'm hiding something from you. _"Excited." _Except for the fact that I'm actually worried. _"When will you bring all your stuff to the new penthouse?"

He tickled my side, to which I jerked and giggled. His lips remained warm on my skin as he answered.

"I've already had it shipped. I took care of it this morning."

"But... I thought you had a meeting with Ben this morning?"

"I did. Afterwards, I met with the movers. I didn't take much. I know how you feel about that place."

"Oh. I wish you'd told me." I felt weird about him not telling me about this. Perhaps it was because I kept something even worse from him.

"I didn't think you'd wanna know about it, considering..."

I needed to get off the topic and get off of it now. He wasn't doing anything wrong for goodness sakes.

"That was kind of you. Thank you." I held his hands at my tummy. "So, any luck with trying to find a new producer?"

"Hmm?" he replied, pulling me in closer to him. I rolled my eyes. That meant he didn't wanna talk about it. Still, I was worried about this. I was the one who cost him the original producer in the first place. There had to be something I could do. Someone I knew had to help him get his play up and running. _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof _was his baby.

"I promise, I'll try to help, okay?"

But I did know someone: Alice. Edward shot down the idea before, and knowing now of Alice's despicable actions, I understood why. Alice wasn't who I thought she was but, somehow, she did feel connected to Edward. I couldn't believe I had been worried about him connecting with Jessica all those weeks ago when Alice was the one who I should've questioned. Carlisle's apparent ill-health reawakened her compassion for Edward. Well, if she really wanted to help him, she would ask Ms. Evanson to invest in the play. Money was money. He would accept this from them because he needed to make this happen. Jane took the money away. I would give it back.

"Hmm." He took another deep breath of my hair this time, and I shut my eyes. It was a new ritual for us. He would bury his nose in my hair and breathe me in. Soon after, I would fall asleep. It was like Ambien.

Only a few hours later, as dawn shaded my room in blue, the bed shook around me. When I heard a thump on the floor, I opened my eyes and rolled onto my other side. Edward wasn't in bed anymore.

"Hey, where are you?" I didn't see him at all. Then, his lean body appeared, standing up from the floor. He was sheathed in shadows, his back to me. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Edward?"

"I just had a bad dream. That's all. Go back to sleep."

Since I was let go from The New Yorker, I would wake up to his arms around me, spooning. He was always awake. Sometimes, he was ready to make love. Whenever I would turn to face him, his eyes would be so open. This was the first time I saw him like this.

"No, come on. Talk to me." I scooted over to the edge of the bed and stood up to join him. Hugging his side, I asked, "You're thinking of Liam, aren't you?"

"I'm fine." But he wasn't. He was burning up and sweaty.

"You're not. You're sweating." I grabbed some facial tissue from the nightstand and patted his temple and jaw-line. He took my hand, balling the tissue into his hands and throwing it to the floor. As it rolled under my bed, my heart sank. He didn't have to say a word. I knew. He wouldn't want to talk about his dream.

"I just need some air." Briefly, he squeezed my arms around him. Then, he let go, walking to the AC. I followed him, but remained silent at his side. I was still, leaving him undisturbed but too worried to leave him alone.

As the sun began to rise, his face became more defined. His forehead was lined with worry, and his lips were white and thin. Then, there were his eyes.

Viridian.

I blinked, trying to calm my suspicions. I didn't want to talk about it if he didn't, especially if his nightmare wasn't about Liam. The steel assured me it wasn't. It was so much worse.

"Go back to sleep, Bella." He turned to face me, a brief smile crossing his lips. Then, he rubbed his cheek, rough with the beard he was growing out since he lost the MacBeth role. "I'm gonna go for a run."

"What? No, you can't." _How could I help him forget his dream if he wasn't here? If he was out running in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in New York City?_

He cocked an eyebrow. "I can. I have for weeks now."

"Weeks? Edward!" I slapped his chest playfully. My stomach was tight and a contradiction to my bashful grin.

"Yes, every morning and see? I'm still here in one piece."

"Every morning? Since when?"

"Since my birthday."

Thinking back, I wondered why he didn't shower before leaving to meet Emmett at the Delacorte. He just pulled on his clothes and left in a hurry. The morning Emmett left, Edward's Irish Spring filled the kitchen as we spoke of being together for the rest of our lives. So, for two weeks, he went for a run, showered, and lay in bed with me as if he'd never left.

I kept a blind eye to the signs. They were all there. I just wasn't paying attention.

Then, there were sudden moments of sorrow. I noticed those signs every day, but they were fleeting. Until now, I thought those pained expressions were due to his worry over his _Macbeth_ audition, or Liam, or, on a deeper level, Jasper. But his eyes this morning... I hadn't seen his eyes so closed off since the incident at his apartment.

We had conversations for weeks as if these nightmares didn't happen. It wasn't fair to him. He needed me to talk so that I could help him forget.

"But... it's dangerous." I scrunched my nose up, wrapping my arms around his waist. He used to live in Park Slope. In Park Slope, you go for "a run." In Crown Heights, you run from the subway or your car into your apartment. Central Park was even safer than Park Slope. "Go later tonight. We're right across Central-"

"Bella, I'm going." He ran his hand through his hair then pulled my arms from around him.

"There are other ways to let off some steam, you know..." I turned around hopping onto the bed, doing a sexy crawl for his viewing pleasure. _Once he put his hands on my body, he would forget her. _The steel in his eyes meant he was hiding a bunch of different things from me in the past. Coupled with the nightmare, it was an all too obvious sign that somehow his thoughts were on the last person in the world they should be on: Jane.

I remembered him say to Ben last month that he had nightmares about the play. I tried to push down the resentment I felt towards Ben because Edward revealed this to him and not to me. _He's known Ben longer, and he doesn't get all riled up when Jane comes up. Of course Edward would talk to him about it. Now, I had to be the one to assure him that he didn't need her to pull this off._

"I'll be back." He chuckled. I heard his steps make their way to his gray gym bag on my dresser. It was one of the things he brought with him from his apartment. I had noted how it reeked of cigarettes when he brought it over but didn't say anything. Now, it bugged me. He didn't jog as an excuse to smoke again, did he?

First, he kept the nightmare hidden. Then, the jogging. What if he was smoking again, too? There were so many secrets, and he wouldn't let me in on any of them. As he unzipped his bag, I thought it was best to keep things light for now. The nightmare was too fresh on his mind. We could talk about everything later when we were settled at the penthouse. Now, I had to reassure him of my ability to be his stability.

"Whatever it is, really..." I sat up, watching him put on these black cotton shorts and white t-shirt, both new items to me. I took a breath to calm my nerves. "Whatever has got you spooked, I'm here."

Kneeling on one knee to tie his tennis shoes, he shook his head with a curt smile. Then, he walked over to me for a wet kiss on the cheek.

"I'm going. But hey, if you're not gonna sleep, get your stuff packed. It's gonna be a long day."

****Viridian****

We were nearly done moving into 880 Fifth Ave. when I finally had a chance to revel in the place. It was fully furnished from the eggshell curtains and drapes to the yellow roses on the small dining table in the living room. Edward was downstairs paying the movers who had just finished assembling our new bed. The two chocolate leather couches were in place, adding a personal touch. The white loveseats that were here before were too "old-fashioned" for him and he replaced them immediately.

I dropped my duffel bag on the glossy wood floors, breathing in the pungent wood polish. Running my fingers along the arch painted onto the wall, I marveled at the intricate green vines winding around it. The detail was stunning, one which my mom would enjoy if she ever came to visit. Well, she'd enjoy it for a day, then paint a gigantic fuchsia calla lily over it. She was obsessed with Georgia O'Keefe last spring.

I passed by the small bronze mirror, taking a peek up the stairs to where our bedroom and private bathroom were. Straight ahead was a hallway with an eggshell runner down the middle that led to another half-bathroom to the right and a cozy kitchen at the end. It had a sub zero fridge and white marble countertops but looked the same size as my kitchen in Brooklyn.

Turning and treading slowly into the living room, I realized Edward was right. It _was_ very old-fashioned. There were white ceramic horses on the coffee table for goodness sakes! We would need more than a couple of leather couches to update this place. It was as if I had stepped into the life of a middle-aged socialite. The only thing missing was my Chanel suit and a string of pearls resting on my all-too-delicate collarbone.

The make-up of the living room was all but forgotten, however, when I saw the view. There was a sea of leaves seemingly at my fingertips. If I just reached over, I could touch them. I didn't see the Empire State building, but according to Emmett, once I walked onto the wrap-around terrace and faced south, I would.

I was in such anticipation of this that I missed the couple of steps that led to the terrace and tripped, falling onto my knees.

I grunted and cringed from the sting. I had a feeling I would see broken skin when I pulled off my jeans later. My eyes watered as the pain began to throb, but I tried to ignore it.

"Welcome home, Bella," I muttered. I gripped the wall to stand up. After I gathered my bearings, I pushed down the golden levers to open the terrace doors. Slowly, I wiped the tears away.

"Hey, why are you crying." I heard Edward's deep voice echo from the foyer and looked up to face him. His arms were laden with mahogany pillows. I remembered them from the photo of the couches we saw online. "Is something wrong?"

"No." I rubbed my knuckles over both of my eyes. The summer breeze from the opened terrace doors was cooler and cleaner than any air I'd breathed in New York City the entire time I had been here. We almost didn't need the central air, although that didn't hurt one bit.

"I tripped." I rubbed my palms together, which prickled from them breaking my fall. "It was nothing."

He tossed the pillows to the floor, walking over to me with a furrow in his brow. He stood two steps below so I was a head taller than him.

"Hey, lemmie see." He took my hands, turning my reddened palms up. They pulsed in his hands as he stroked them with his thumbs, like always. My physical responses to him- the tingles, and pulses, the heat flashes and shortness of breath- had waned in the past couple of weeks since Liam's death. The pulses now were barely noticeable, but the passion in his eyes was just as fervent, if not more so. I didn't know if he saw the same intensity in my eyes, but what I had now was so much more potent and enduring. My palms heated up in a way that made the stinging in my knees disappear. A fuzzy warmth replaced it.

"Does that feel good?" he asked with a crooked smile.

I nodded, stepping down to the living room floor and into his arms. With each bend of my knees, however, I winced, the fuzziness giving way to throbbing. Edward noticed immediately, looking me up and down and around my back.

"You're hurting somewhere else. Where?"

"Just my knees. I'm fine."

His face screwed up and he shook his head. "We should get some ice on them, now."

Immediately, he took my hands, leading me to one of the new couches. "Here, sit." I willingly obliged. Cupping my face in his hands, he said, "Take your pants off. I'll go get some ice and a first aid kit."

I watched him turn around and head down the hallway. He was so sweet with me. Maybe too sweet. He wouldn't be this way if he knew I was keeping something from him. He wasn't the type to forgive people. He dropped Jane the second he learned she tricked me into meeting her. And Alice might as well be dead to him.

I cleared my throat. "This place came with a first aid kit, too?"

"I brought mine over here yesterday." Edward chuckled. Over his shoulder, he said, "Most of the stuff Dad bought I threw away and replaced. Some of it's still here, though."

"Yeah..." I cocked an eyebrow, unbuttoning my jeans "...like those ceramic horses?" Then, under my breath I said, "They're so tacky."

When he returned, I was pants-less and avoiding the broken bloodied skin on my knees. The scent of the blood wasn't as nauseating as the sight of the endless oozing blood. It wouldn't stop.

"I love those horses," he called out. _Oh shit! How did he hear me? _Then, slowly, his voice got louder and louder down the hallway. "They're an heirloom from my mom's family. They go back a hundred years."

"Oh." I wrinkled my nose, cursing myself. _First Lauren, then Alice, now Edward's horses. My instincts were so off lately._

Edward reappeared with a kit and some ice packs. His eyes were mirthful. "You hate them, don't you?"

"Well..."

He laughed again. "My dad and brother hated them, too, which is why I have them. They're tacky, I agree."

I smiled up at him, thankful he agreed and wasn't offended. Then, I realized something.

_"_You heard me in the hall?"

"I did. Everything echoes in this apartment."

"Oh."

"Worried about the late night call you'll have with your other boyfriend?" Edward asked wriggling his eyebrows.

"Eww, no," I said laughing. "It can get annoying though. I guess we can use the terrace then."

When he bent down in front of my legs, his eyes darkened at the sight of my cuts. He grasped my left leg in his hands, stroking the side. It was already beginning to swell. "This... It's worse than I thought."

After I was cleaned up, bandaged, and iced, we sat on the couch, talking. He sat facing forward with his arm around me. I sat with my legs up on his lap, my head on his shoulder. He held the icepack in place. It was the most comfortable couch, easily better than any of the ones I had in all of the homes I grew up in.

"You're not a hoarder, are you?" I asked and Edward laughed, pinching my waist. "Do you throw anything out?"

"No. I do. In fact, I did. I threw out a lot of stuff, unimportant stuff."

From the looks of it, that stuff must've been from Jane. He didn't put up any of the posters that lined the hallway walls of his old apartment. Unless they were still boxed up...

"So all you have left are ceramic horses and a first aid kit?"

"No, there's other stuff but nothing from Jane, if you were wondering. Only kept good memories." He yawned.

"Oh. I'm glad."

"Good. How're you feeling? Do you think you can make it up the stairs? Would you like me to carry you?"

I was about to laugh. I wasn't paralyzed for goodness sakes. But I loved the idea of him carrying me up those stairs.

"No, I can't. Help me up," I said, pouting.

The glint in his eyes said, "I know you're bullshitting me." He was amused by my faux helplessness, and I loved it. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he scooped his right arm beneath my legs, not breaking our gaze. The orange glow of sunset reflecting off of his eyes, offering me every shade of green, including the one I hated.

"Thank you for taking care of me," I whispered.

"I love taking care of you, Bella. I'll do so, always."

He kissed my forehead, the pulse radiating down past my numb knees to my toes, which curled. He kissed my cheek, and I sighed.

"You're a good man, Edward."

He pulled away, his eyes downcast.

"I wish..." I began but couldn't finish. _I want to be as good as you are. I don't want to lie, but I have to. I'm doing it to protect you. I'm doing it because I love you._

"What? What do you wish?" he prodded.

"I wish I could take care of you as well as you take care of me." _That was the truth._

Edward shook his head, standing up. He held me tighter, his eyes still averted. I felt his heartbeat racing against my ribs.

"Look at me, Edward."

Instead, he kissed me, the passion igniting in him, holding my breath hostage until he pulled away. Burying my face into his neck, I bit my bottom lip. I had been worried, since he was downstairs with the movers so long, he would have time to smoke again. But there wasn't even a trace of cigarette on my tongue.

As we made our way up the stairs, he refused to look at me.

Edward let me down on the loveseat near the window, grabbing folded white sheets from his box from his apartment. I didn't think much of it until he made a comment.

"These are new, if you were wondering," he said. I watched him unfold them over the plush white pillowtop mattress. "I washed them a few days ago to get rid of that plastic smell. I hate that smell. And... I wanted it to be perfect for us tonight."

I stood up, crossing my arms, unable to sidestep this anymore.

"How- how can it be perfect if you won't even look me in the eye? What's wrong?"

"Bella..."

"You don't think you're a good man? You are. You're the kindest man I've ever met."

"Please, Bella." He rubbed the back of his neck, and my heart ached. He turned his head to the chocolate headboard, rubbing the smooth wood. _W_hy wouldn't he talk to me?

"Baby, talk to me."

He scratched the middle of his head, looking down at the mattress.

Limping over to him, I pulled the sheets out of his hands, tossing them aside. As the scent rose, I smiled. He used the same brand of fabric softener I had used. It was the sweetest gesture. I brought his hands up to my face.

"You helped Liam in his darkest hour. You're paying the rent for my mom's apartment, for goodness sakes! You're caring and sweet and so good. I love you even more for it."

"I don't deserve that," Edward whispered into my hands. Then, he pushed them away.

"Why are you saying these things?" I watched him crash onto the couch. Then, he rubbed his eyes, disgruntled.

"I feel like you've put me on a pedestal."

"What?" Disbelieving, I cocked an eyebrow. "Where is this coming from?"

He _scooted to the edge of the cushion_. "It's not 'coming from' anywhere." There were those dreaded air quotes. "I _feel_ it." He closed his right hand into a fist and rubbed his chest.

"Well, don't because it's not true." I sat down on the bed, unfolding the sheets some more. "I love you for all of your imperfections. I accept them because I know you love me and mine, but I don't think you're perfect."

"Thenstop asking me about my nightmares _or _why I run or why I say something! Just let me be."

"I'm not-" I took a deep breath, my heartbeat thudding in my ears and racing in my chest. "I'm asking because I don't want you to suffer."

"Who's suffering? I'm fine, alright? This is just something I have to deal with on my own. _I_ have to deal with it. Not everything needs a perfect solution. You're young, but you have to learn life doesn't always-"

"Excuse me? Young?" _So this is what he really thinks of me? _

"Bella, you know it." He stood up, walking around the bed to my side again. "You know you're sheltered. You said it yourself, remember?"

I scrunched my nose up, recalling that exact moment. It was true. I said so when we were talking about Jasper.

"Ugh.. It hurts to hear aloud, I guess." I coughed, lowering my head and pulling at my t-shirt.

"Yeah, I know. When you ask me why I do or don't do things, that hurts more. Look, I'm working my way through this, but I've faced and overcome much worse."

"Are you sure?"

Edward bared his teeth, his eyes blazing into mine. It was the first time we shared a gaze in twenty minutes. I couldn't believe we were back to averted gazes and his cursed viridian. Would it always be like this with him? I thought Jasper was the last hurdle, that he was why he was so afraid to open up with me. It wasn't. This was who he was: the guy who demanded I be honest with him but wouldn't return the favor. I couldn't even ask him for the truth.

I cursed. "Okay, fine. I'll leave it alone." I had to. I was quicy learning that my job as Edward Cullen's girlfriend was to help him forget whatever ailed him. Besides, these truths were nothing compared to what he would have to face if Alice was telling me the truth.

"Good," he said. He furrowed his thick eyebrows. "Now, go sit down so I can make the bed."

"I don't think so, buddy."

We spread the sheets together, much to his amusement as my pout was earlier. Grabbing the pillows from my "Bella's most precious things" box, he tossed me one, and we covered them in the white pillow protectors. I stood back, staring at the bed. It was truly _our_ bed. This was our home.

"I didn't get a blanket or a comforter. Sorry," he said. His grin was sheepish as he kicked off his shoes.

"We won't get cold. Not tonight."

He got up on the bed, reaching across the sheets for me.

"Come here," he whispered.

Our fingers intertwined as I sideway-shimmyed onto the bed with him. My knees were so sore I groaned with every movement.

"It still hurts, doesn't it?" He brushed my hair off my shoulder, wrapping his arm around me. "I'm sorry, baby. Do you need more ice?"

"No, I'm fine. Really. I just need to sleep it off."

"I can go get it. It'll only take a second," he said, already getting up. I grabbed his arm to stop him.

"It's okay. I'm just exhausted. And you did twice the work _I_ did today. Aren't you tired?"

He shrugged with a mischievous look in his eyes. He never looked away now. "Not really." Slipping his forefinger over the elastic of my panties, he said, "I could stay up for another hour... Or two."

He was a very very very good man that night.

We fell asleep immediately afterwards, even though it was still light out, our exhaustion proving itself. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of his soft snoring, his arm around me tight in our usual spoon position.

"Edward, I have to pee," I thought aloud, pulling his arm off of me. He relented, turning on his back. I slid off the bed, my knees still sore. I would need more sleep to relieve the pain, I guess. I welcomed the other parts in my body that Edward helped make sore, though, rubbing my thighs together.

Right before I shuffled over to the threshold, I saw him reach down to scratch himself. I smiled. It was a good sign. He was having a good dream tonight.

_So, it worked. I did help him forget. There is a perfect solution. _

It was only 10 p.m. according to the clock in the bathroom. It was a very modern steel clock. Everything in this bathroom was modern, even the toilet. Strangely enough, it had a touchpad and a night light. After figuring out how to open the lid, I handled my business. When I reached out for some toilet paper, I found none.

"_We _forgot the toilet pap- Oh!" I cried, jumping off the seat. Warm water had sprayed in all the places Edward had made sore. I stood back, watching the spray slowly fall in height before stopping altogether. Then, the toilet_ lid_ closed all by itself.

"What _is_ this place?"

I didn't want to wake Edward and his good dream_, _but I had to share this odd advancement in technology with someone. I immediately thought of Jake because he'd laugh at the audacity of the thing. Then he'd want one, too, and fly to New York _to test _it out himself. I chuckled, thinking about how he'd bet he would be able to afford one by the end of the year.

So, I hurried (as best I could) down the stairs to my cell phone. I couldn't remember where I had put it, noting how quickly things had changed. Chasing Edward a few months ago, my phone was the first thing I looked at every mornin_g and _the last thing I saw at night. I needed it like I needed to breathe. Now, I had him and didn't even remember where it was.

Eventually, I found it in the back pocket of my jeans and was on my way back upstairs when it vibrated in my hand. When I tapped the button to light up my screen, a white envelope with wings flew up then back down the screen. I had a voicemail. I stood at the foot of the stairs, navigating to the missed calls screen. I recognized the number instantly. It was the number I used to make my only call late last night.

I had a voicemail from Esme Evanson.

* * *

**A/N: Bye :)**


	28. Chapter 26 Mendacity

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :) ''Tis the season and all that jazz. May you all enjoy the holidays with family, peace and lots of love! Merry Merry!**

* * *

**Chapter 26- Mendacity**

**July 4, 2010**

I limped back into the living room, easing into the couch to listen to Ms. Evanson's message.

"Hello, Bella. I'm so sorry I missed your call. I hope you're okay. Please call me back when you get the chance. I'm glad you decided to reach out to me, and I hope to help you in any way I can."

"Of course I'm okay," I whispered. Still, my voice resounded across the room. I glanced over to the stairs, careful not to say any more, in case Edward could hear me from upstairs talking about something he simply wasn't ready to hear.

I scooted to the edge of the couch, rubbing the dull ache around the wound. Using the armrest as a crutch, I stood up. Every bend stung.

Wary of the woeful steps ahead, I hobbled through the terrace doors left open throughout the night. The evening air was sweet and wet but very windy. In fact, I couldn't stand in the middle of the terrace because of the gusts, so I clutched the concrete railing to take a view of the neighborhood. Cars passed by on street level at a hush, and Central Park was dark across the street. The grand Metropolitan Museum of Art was a few blocks north but dormant. When I turned to face south, the view was magnificent.

About forty blocks south, the lights of the Empire State Building shone red, white, and blue in celebration of the holiday. I could see the windows of Bergdorf Goodman showcasing the artistry of designers I never knew the names of. I was never into that stuff, although I did melt at what little of the Tiffany's building I could see. It was so bright down Fifth, it could have been midday. There was a certain promise in those lights, in those buildings. I could feel my future with Edward could be just as bright. Alice was wrong. Everything was fine.

Standing high and looking down at this city lent a certain invincibility. Nothing could touch me up here. No one could hurt Edward. They would have to get through me first.

I leaned back against the rough railing, pulling my hair out of my face from the wind. I rose my phone up to catch the light and dialed Ms. Evanson's number. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ms. Evanson." _I sounded six!_ I cleared my throat. _Timidness__ wouldn't do the job tonight. Never had before, and it never will._

"Bella?"

"Yes, Bella... Swan. Um..."

"Yes. You called about Edward? Are you alright?"

"Yes. "

"Alice tells me you two are serious?"

"I..."

"It's pretty clear from your call that you are." The lightness in her voice was forced.

"Yeah... I'm sorry I called at such a late hour. I hope I didn't disturb you."

"It's alright. Now, what's wrong?

"I wanna-" I took a deep breath. "I need to know about his dad."

"How did you- Alice."

"Alice." We said her daughter's name simultaneously, then I followed up, taking a deep breath before letting it all out. "She claimed it was terminal, that Carlisle might not make it until the end of the year." I turned around, leaning my elbows back on the cool concrete, the wind blowing my hair forward over both my shoulders.

"Tell me. Is it true? Is he really dying?"

"I- I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Alice said you spoke to him."

"I have, and he's been so strong. He is such a brave man who wants to protect everyone around him. I could hear it in his voice, though. It was unmistakable."

"What? Hear what?"

"Death."

I shivered as she uttered the word, every hair along my arms stood on end. Immediately, the tears fell, warm and steady. They took over my voice. I had no speech left in me.

_Edward won't be able to handle this. Emmett and A__lice were right.__ How am I supposed to help him? Liam just died and he won't talk about that at all. He __enti__rely __shut himself off for a week while the little boy was on his last legs. He'll do it again when he needs me the most. _

_How could I lie to him, though? I couldn't. He trusted me._

"Bella?"

"Yes," I croaked. I cleared my throat, wiping a warm tear from my jaw. "Are you sure..." I stuttered. "Sure about Carlisle's condition?"

"I am. I had a talk with Emmett yesterday. He said the doctors are trying everything they can to help him, but it's only a matter of time."

_Oh God. What could Carlisle have that could kill him so swiftly? In this century __most diseases were curable, especially if you have as much money and are in the medical profession as Carlisle is. There were only a handful that were deadly, but if they were caught early enough, they could be treated._

"What did Emmett say the disease was?"

Silence.

"Ms. Evanson?"

"Emmett didn't say. I don't know any more than that."

"Oh." My fingers grew numb, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears, up my neck, and down my legs. "Oh no."

"It will be terrifying knowing what he'll go through the next few months. I'm sure Edward's been a mess this entire time. Has he left for L.A. yet?"

I shook my head, forgetting that Esme couldn't see me. "No. He... He doesn't know." I bit my lip.

"What?" Esme's strained voice unleashed. "Where is he?"

"He's upstairs." I sniffled. "Alice told me not to say anything. She was afraid he wouldn't take it well."

"I see. She has a point. You haven't known Edward as long as we have so you don't know what he's capable of when pushed to his limits."

I remembered what Ms. Evanson said in the voicemail about Edward doing something to me. Whatever limits he had before weren't the same anymore. Not with me.

"Why would you say that?"

"Just be careful. Please be careful."

"I don't have to be careful." _Jane wasn't right. Alice wasn't. _"Edward's fine. I'm fine."_ Emmett said Edward __wasn__'t__ " ready"__ for me? Now Ms. Evanson was telling me I had to be careful around the _good_ man sleeping upstairs? None of them fucking get it. _My mind spun with the slew of accusations, and I slammed my hand down onto the railing.

"For now. Once you tell him about Carlisle, he won't be."

"But Carlisle needs him. I have to tell him."

After a pause, "You're- you're right. You can't keep this a secret. But you can't help him get through this. His family has to help him, Bella. He'll hurt you if you stay."

Clutching my throat, I felt like I found the ground again. I walked over to the middle of the terrace, the sting in my knees burning up my thighs. _This was such bullshit. All of them were wrong about Edward. I didn't know what he did to make them talk about him like this, bu__t he wasn't the same person. I didn't care. __He was good._

"He won't."

"You've only known each other for a couple of months. You're not in a position to say what Edward can or cannot do."

"I am. I- I know about Jasper." I said in a strangled whisper. My fingers felt like they were going to explode. My heart constricted like a wound-up snake, beating hard for a man whose story continued to devastate me.

"You do?" Ms. Evanson sighed. _She didn't expect it. But now that she knows, she must change her mind about us._

"He told me about him because he trusts me," I whispered, looking north to the serenity surrounding the Met, but I couldn't stop shivering. It was too nippy for just a light t-shirt. "He knows that I'll help him. I'm here for him. He's not gonna hurt me."

"Bella, you can't see it yet, but you will. And when you'll want to leave, it'll be too late."

"I'll never leave him." _And he could handle anything as long as he had me. _Still, my voice shook. "I love him."

Suddenly, I heard footsteps patter down the staircase.

_Jesus Christ! _

"Bella?" Edward's voice was low and his tone was unassuming. I heard him yawn, coming closer."Come back to bed, babe."

Wiping my sweaty palm along the cotton of my t-shirt, I said into my phone, "I will handle this, okay?"

"Is that Edward?" The strain returned to Ms. Evanson's voice.

"Thank you."

I hung up, dazed, freezing, and heavy with grief and revulsion. _Not his dad, too. This is the last thing he needs right now. He'll be fine, though. I'm here. I'll help him. Whatever Esme said about him needing family didn't apply. His "family" was across the country doing God knows what. His family abandoned him. I could be his family. _

"You're shivering," Edward said at the threshold, yanking me out of the mix of emotions embroiled inside of me. Facing him, I watched the wind play with his hair, the soft light from the living room surrounding him in a yellow glow. His cheeks were red and his boxers were tight. He must've had a fantastic dream. Now, he was about to step into a nightmare.

He hopped down the steps, rushing to get something out of his gym bag. I watched the muscles stretch along his back. His shoulders were so relaxed. I remembered his eyes before we fell asleep, how the viridian had been replaced by a shimmering sea green. He was happy.

Edward hurried back with a long black hoodie. "Come in here. I'll warm you up."

I limped his way, watching his forehead wrinkle and a sad smile cross his face and warm my heart. His eyes still shimmered.

"Still hurting, huh?" He wrapped the hoodie around me, vigorously rubbing my arms.

I nodded, taking a deep breath of his hoodie. It stank of cigarette smoke.

With my tummy aching, I coughed. "You're smoking again?" I sucked my teeth.

"Huh? Why would you ask me that?"

Raising my shoulders, I said, "This hoodie reeks of it. And your gym bag, too."

"Oh... Let me-" He pulled it off, throwing it to the living room floor. "It's been in my apartment for a couple months. The smoke must be embedded in the fibers, I guess." He shrugged. "I stopped cold turkey, promise."

"Really?"

"Yes. I wouldn't lie to you, Bella. Not about this. Not about anything." He said these words without a waver in his voice. He didn't avert his eyes either, as was his habit whenever he wanted to keep something from me.

I didn't respond, which he didn't like.

"You don't believe me?"

I shook my head. "It's not that. I just don't want you smoking. As long as I'm alive, I want you here."

"It's not an issue," he murmured into my neck and kissed it. "But I thought you liked the scent of cigarette smoke?" Edward took the phone, as hot as lava, from my left hand. He flipped it around and around in his left hand, squeezing my trembling right hand.

"I used to..." I blushed and everything in my body constricted. "... but not anymore. Not since you asked me not to smoke."

"Good. And don't worry, I haven't either." He led me down the steps. At the bottom, he hugged me close. The hug was tight but soothing. He stroked my back. When he pulled away, his eyes were concerned but not troubled.

"Why were you out there?" He glanced down at the phone, then he stared at me. "Clandestine call to your secret lover?" His eyes glimmered and a crooked grin crossed his face.

_If only I could say no for the right reasons. _

"No. I had to... I wanted to tell Jake about the eccentric toilet upstairs."

It wasn't obvious, but there was a twitch in his smile before he said, "My father's doing. He loves those gadgets."

I frowned and my skin crawled with goosebumps at the mention of his dad, to which Edward went up to shut the terrace door. I took a deep breath before he came back to rub my arms. His body was at ease. Every time I looked into his eyes, I looked into pure light. He was calm with me. I helped him. I had never seen him happier.

And so my decision was an easy one. I had to be a liar for another day. I couldn't bear the alternative. Tomorrow, the viridian would return. For now, there could only be light in his eyes.

"Let's get you under some blankets and off your knees, huh?" He tossed my phone onto the couch. "I wanna spend the rest of the night warming you up."

* * *

**A/N: Bye :)**


	29. Chapter 27 Why Girl

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 27- "Why" Girl**

**August 11, 2010**

A "why" girl.

When Ms. Evanson bequeathed me with the illustrious title, I had accepted it graciously. I think I lived it the first twenty years of my life. To be more accurate, I demanded _other_ people pursue the whys in the world. Jake, my mom, Alice, and Edward. But when it came to facing my own whys, I couldn't handle it.

I never understood how others couldn't face them head on. I thought finding the truth would lead to their absolution. You find out the truth, you find real happiness. I had been so naïve to the kind of irreparable damage one truth could cause. The only thing that could fix it was time. And, as usual, it wasn't moving fast enough.

A month had passed since my phone call with Ms. Evanson, but the news about Carlisle continued to torment me as if it were revealed to me yesterday. I didn't dare try to delve deeper into her cautionary words about "Edward's limits." Edward might have hurt people in the past, but he wouldn't hurt me.

I was the only one who understood Edward. I didn't have to find out why he was. Nothing he did before mattered. He was good to me now, and he would continue to be because he was a good man.

No matter how many times my body tensed at the memory of Ms. Evanson's first words to me—a why girl. I ignored them and held Edward tighter. If a man with a questionable past dated my mom, the why girl would demand she leave him. If it were Leah, that girl would drag Jacob out of that relationship with her bare hands. Yet in my own circumstance, I had her bound and gagged.

Carlisle was dying, and I still couldn't tell Edward. I couldn't see the viridian again. He deserved a little happiness, for just a little longer, or whenever Emmett decided it was time. I just couldn't do it. I didn't want him to close himself off and run away again. He disappeared when Liam died, and something deep down told me he'd do it again for Carlisle.

This assuredness was a constant struggle. Everyday for the last month, I woke up in Edward's arms, questioning my decision. The why girl, armed with her spear, was ready to strike down the lie and carve out the truth. The revelation scene replayed in my mind before I opened my eyes:

We would be spooning; so, I'd roll over to face him.

I would stroke his face, rough with scruff, and reveal his father was dying.

He wouldn't cry or scream. He would remain calm. He would shut his eyes and bury his face in the crook of my neck.

When our gazes would meet, I would see the viridian. That's when I'd open my eyes.

I never knew what to do after seeing the steel. I always thought whatever I saw in real life would be better than my imagination. And, in a way, it was.

When I opened my eyes and rolled around to face him in real life, his eyes were brighter than they were in my mind. I could see his soul in them. He was happy.

His nightmares hadn't returned since we moved into the penthouse. I never smelled cigarette smoke again. I never asked him "why," and he never shut down. Slowly but surely, he was opening up. I was as well... about what I wanted him to know, anyway. Still, living together was as natural as breathing for us. We were learning more and more about each other and loving every second of it.

I loved karaoke, something he wasn't too into when I dragged him into a bar in Koreatown. I understood why he had his misgivings when I heard him attempt to sing Kings of Leon. He was more out of tune than I was when I attempted to sing Beyoncé. It was embarrassing as all get out, but that's why I loved karaoke. It was the only place where we didn't have to be our best. We didn't have to even attempt it, but even if we did and failed, it was okay. Edward was a good rapper, though. Too good in fact.

"I didn't know you liked rap," I said as he paid the bill. My voice was raspy from all the belting. He signed the receipt with a sheepish grin.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." He pulled at his ear, his grin vanishing. "This hasn't been the most surprising, has it?"

After the bartender handed him back his credit card, I kissed his cheek. "No," I whispered in his ear, tugging at the same ear. "And if what I already know is the worst, then I can handle the rest."

There wasn't a day where I wouldn't wonder about the rest. I would catch the tail end of a heated phone conversation when he'd come home from a meeting with Ben or another failed audition, and my curiosity would peak. But I promised him space and didn't want to be the kid he said I was. Besides, whenever he was in one of those moods, I knew how to get him out of it. I was becoming a pro at it. Finding out the whys of Edward Cullen came organically. I no longer had to fight for it. All I had to do was sit and watch him.

We went to The New School one afternoon at the end of July, and he let me into his life as a musician. The three movements from Beethoven's Piano Sonata 14 showed all the sides of him that I'd seen and that I never wanted to see again.

The swamp-like melody of the first shrouded him in a darkness of which I had seen only fragments. He hunched over the bench as if trying to hide and he played the entire movement so softly. It was a ghost weeping. The second flowed from his fingers like a stream. I was transported to the mornings since June when he was so playful, so open, how he loved my chocolate cake. I thought to make another as he reached its final jovial notes. For the final movement, he slammed his fingers down on the keys so hard he could've destroyed the ivory. I had heard this movement dozens of times prior to this, often hearing versions that were played in a frenzy. Edward played it with fury.

I didn't know where it was coming from, which was what frightened me more than the sight of him virtually beating the keys. I touched the scar on the back of my neck when he arrived at the movement's climax. The remnant of his last violent act marked me in a way I found easy to forget. It wasn't _that _violent to begin with.

I didn't know how to respond when he asked me what I thought of his performance. But when he asked me to join him on the bench, I willingly consented. I felt his tense body ease as soon as his arms enveloped me. He breathed me in like he loved to do and was happy once more.

I was emboldened by his happiness and kept the why girl's questions at bay. He shined brighter every morning. I would not let her snuff him out.

This morning, I was ready for his green pools. But even before I opened my eyes, I knew something was off. When I reached down to lift his arm from my waist, anxious to see his light, it wasn't there.

The bed was empty. Edward's arms weren't around me. The sheets behind me were bare.

On the floor in front of the closet door was his opened gym bag. It was empty.

Clutching my stomach, a wave of intense cramps seized me. It was day two of my period, a.k.a. the day hell decided to reside in my uterus.

I hopped off the bed, the stinging pain in my knees long gone. Searching for some Midol in the nightstand drawer, I found a note beneath the lamp. In Edward's messy scrawl, I breathed a sigh of relief reading:

_Left early for a meeting with Ben about the play. I'll be done around 1. -E_

A second later, my cell phone played a few seconds of Beethoven from the love seat. I had left it downstairs if my memory served me correctly. _Edward must have brought it up here._ I downed the Midol and crossed the bed to pick it up.

Three messages. All from Edward, starting at 7:30 a.m.

_**Edward: Good morning. Hope you slept well. I didn't want to wake you this morning, so I left you a note. I'll be at The Public Theater with Ben all morning. Enjoy fresh bagels and coffee downstairs.  
7:30 a.m.**_

Edward: Missing you.  
8:55 a.m.  
**  
Edward: Hey, still asleep, sleepyhead? Ben wants to stop by and meet you. We'll be back around 1. Don't be nervous.  
10:59 a.m.**

Good. I wanted to meet Ben, too. He had to be nicer than Emmett. He sounded nicer when I overheard him in the hallway.

_**Me: **Can't wait. Hurry back._

_11:00 a.m._

Downstairs, the bagels were still fresh but cool on the countertop in the kitchen. The coffee was tepid. Warming up the coffee in the microwave—another Jetson-like gadget built into the wall with a "sensor steam cook cycle"—I decided this would be the time to do what I really didn't want to do but had to.

I couldn't let this go, not when I thought the worst of her and said as much. I had to apologize to Alice. Not only was it the right thing to do, I needed her. I had to convince her to help Edward with his play.

When I called her, she picked up on the first ring.

"Bella? What happened? Did you reach Emmett? I've been worried sick!" Her words were a jumbled mishmash of hollering and expectations.

Rather than go over this on the phone, I invited her to Pinkberry on 82nd. Thankfully, she agreed. This exchange would be so much more pleasant with froyo.

Half an hour later, we sat on a hard white plastic bench inside. She ordered, and I copied her choice: frozen chocolate-flavored yogurt with coconut sprinkles. I felt like I was in a futuristic play room at a Chuckie Cheese. The bright pink walls and pure white floor were an unusual decor for this part of the city. It didn't assuage the situation, though. It was just as cold as the treat in my little cup. And the sugar in my system didn't make what I was about to tell Alice any easier.

"How's your summer so far?" she asked, eating a couple coconut flakes at a time.

"It's good. Couldn't be better." I gobbled my yogurt.

"Good. You look it. I mean, you look good."

"Thanks." I blushed.

"Oh. How's the new place?"

"It's great. Never knew I'd live in a penthouse like the one at 880. Ever."

She shrugged. "I guess if you like a bunch of dogs and old people. Have you begun your research, yet? Or whatever you guys do for your senior thesis?"

I hadn't thought about school since May and didn't plan on doing any of my work until next week. I thought I'd do more analysis on Disney and Shakespeare. The editor of The New Yorker hired me because of it, so why not? I didn't want to humor Alice with an answer, though. This was just small talk. I didn't invite her here for small talk.

"Really don't wanna talk about school, Alice."

"So, what do you wanna talk about?" Alice asked. She lowered her cup to her knee. "You haven't spoken to Edward about Carlisle, have you?"

"Um, not... not that. I don't wanna talk about that."

"So you _have_ told him? Is he alright?"

I dug up a spoonful of the yogurt, focusing too hard on the brown puddle at the bottom. "I can't say..."

"Okay." From my periphery, I saw Alice slide back against the rubbery wall. "Why am I here if you don't wanna talk about school or Edward?" She swirled the froyo around and around until all the coconut flakes disappeared in the mix.

"I wanna say I'm sorry for calling you a liar. I don't know how much that's worth, but I found out the truth. And I'm sorry."

"So you _did_ speak to Emmett!" She turned to face me, placing her cup in the space on the bench between us.. "I told you he'd come around. How's Carlisle? Is he okay?"

I shook my head and immediately regretted it. Alice gasped and covered her mouth. I felt terrible, slumping my shoulders, feeling like an idiot. She thought I was saying Carlisle's condition deteriorated.

"No! Sorry to freak you out!" I twisted my hair over my shoulder. "I didn't talk to Emmett. I don't know about Carlisle's condition. I just know that you told me the truth."

"Okay?" She cursed, dropping her face into her hands. "Why did you shake your head if it wasn't about Carlisle?" She mumbled into her hands, wiping tears away from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Alice."

"Yeah, we got that cleared up. Apology accepted. Who told you the truth?"

I shook my head again. "I won't say right now."

She took my empty cup out of my hands, placing it in front of her cup. "Why not?"

Keeping my eye on the white cardboard, I replied, "It doesn't matter."

She huffed. "Well... Do you know if he's alright?"

"I don't know how he is right now, no," I muttered. It was the truth. I had spoken to Ms. Evanson a month ago. "Doesn't your mom know?"

"My mom's been doing fieldwork in Egypt since the end of July. I haven't spoken to her since she left."

"God..." I squeezed my eyes shut, mulling over how I would ask her the next question without seeming like a sleazy salesperson. I needed to do it, though.

_Edward needs this._

"What? What's wrong Bella?" Alice's voice wavered. "Hey, are you gonna throw up again?"

"No..." With a sharp turn of my head, I cocked an eyebrow. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you pregnant?" She touched my knee, her face a mask of concern. "God, don't tell me you are."

"No," I replied calmly. I shifted my legs so that her hand fell away. "I'm not."

"Are you sure? You threw up at the office last time I saw you and now you look like you're about to again."

"Yeah, I'm sure." _I got the cramps to prove it._

"So...what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've just been over-thinking... stuff."

"Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No. No, I'm fine." I shook my head then looked into Alice's face. She looked genuinely concerned. Her reaction overwhelmed me. It also cemented something Edward wouldn't like at all. I could start to trust Alice again.

"I need to ask you for a favor."

"What is it?"

I picked up my cup. Swallowing the last of the yogurt, I squished the remaining coconut flake on the bottom.

"It's really serious. I hope you'll think about it."

"Hey... wait a minute. Did he do something to you?"

Flinging the spoon and empty cup into the trashcan on my left, I stood up. H_ere we go again. _When I faced Alice, she crossed her legs and stared at me expectantly.

"I think the better question is what did he do to you to make you ask me that?" I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jean shorts.

Alice fluffed her bangs, which were blown straight today and falling into her eyes. "That's not fair. You asked me for a favor. Now you're asking me to talk about something that you know I don't wanna talk about. Which is it?"

"I just want you to be straight with me."

Alice kept mum, looking around the store, which was beginning to fill up.

"Okay," she finally said. "I, um, have a hair appointment on 68th and 7th. Let's walk through the park to talk."

I checked the clock. I had an hour before I had to meet Edward and Ben. He didn't know I was with Alice nor did he have to know. Asking this of Alice wouldn't take long. I should have enough time.

The palpitations in my chest caused my voice to shake. "I have an appointment in an hour. So, I won't keep you."

It was a steamy day in New York. The air was thick with the promise of rain. The wait was a long one. It wouldn't rain until later tonight. The humidity slowed my pace but Alice was sprightly. When we reached the end of 68th and 2nd, I pulled my hair-tie from my wrist to form a ponytail. My neck felt like it had been roasting in the oven for hours. I still needed to cut my hair but never got around to it.

"So, we've been walking a few blocks, and you haven't said anything. What's the favor?" Alice asked.

_Do it, Swan. Just come out with it._

"Edward, he... He's producing a play." We crossed the street as I said this. Alice was a couple of bouncy steps ahead of me.

_"_Wow. Cool." The dull tone of her voice wasn't as impressed as her words. She rubbed her forehead. "Which one?"

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof." A frog had leapt into my throat and moved in. My voice wouldn't stop shaking.

"Hunh. Is that Tennessee Williams?"

"Umm, yeah. Yeah. It's Edward's favorite play."

"Interesting..."

She turned onto 68th St., heading west to 3rd Ave. without another word.

"It is interesting." I hurried after her. "And Edward will be great in it. He wants to play Brick."

"Sounds like a lot of work, but I know he can do it. Where does my favor come into play? Forgive the pun."

"Edward ran into some trouble and can't get out of it."

"What kind of trouble can you get into producing an old play? Does he not have the rights to it?" She turned around and walked backwards.

"I don't think so. He just needs some money."

"Money?" Alice furrowed her eyebrows. Then, she turned and walked ahead of me again.

"Yeah," I said after finally catching up with her. We reached the curb on 3rd. "I don't know how much, but it sounds like more than he has."

"That's ridiculous. Edward's loaded. He has more money than Saudi Arabia. Or at least his dad does."

Pulling at my t-shirt's collar, I felt defeated already. Alice was gonna say no. She wouldn't help her former step-brother after all. She didn't care as much as I had thought.

"I guess so."

"Why doesn't he ask him? Carlisle would give Edward the world."

"I don't know. I don't talk to him about his father too much."

We waited at the corner for the light to change.

"So, umm, you don't know how much he needs, and you don't know if he's asked his father yet but you're asking me." She stopped and faced me with her arms crossed. "That's the favor?"

"Umm..." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Yeah."

"Does Edward even know you're here? Or that you're asking me?"

"No. But-"

"Splendid."

"I know I haven't thought this through..."

"Do you remember the last time we were together? He couldn't stand the sight of me. What makes you think he'd accept this money from me?"

"Alice, you said you cared about him. You wanna see him do well, right?"

"Yes. On both accounts, yes."

"He wants this play more than anything else in the world. No, he needs this. If Carlisle dies tomorrow from this godforsaken disease, he will need this play to sustain him. He wouldn't say no if you gave this to him... or... if _I _gave it to him."

She dropped her arms, walking ahead again the moment the crosswalk sign turned from the red-orange light to white. After leaving Lexington Ave. behind, she still didn't stop. Wiping my brow and the back of my neck, I raced behind her. I expected the conversation to end because of her quick pace, but she kept talking.

"You seem to be making this up as you go along."

"I am. Still, it'll work. Edward trusts me. He won't have to know where it came from. He'll never know."

Now only a stride behind her, I watched Alice bow her head and pull at the chain on her neck. The oddly-shaped silver pendant that I saw twice before appeared yet again between her slender pink fingers.

"Who gave that to you?" I asked. I took a deep breath. My abs were beginning to cramp. I did a little stretch to relieve the strain.

"What?" Slowly, she lowered it to her chest.

"The necklace."

"Um, someone important." With every word, she picked up the pace. I had to jog to keep up with her. This hair appointment must've been quite an experience. "He's no longer here with us."

_Jasper_.

"You know, Edward's acting because of him." I could barely get the words out between my huffs and puffs.

"I do." Finally, Alice slowed her pace down.

"You know I wouldn't ask you if Edward had other options."

"You don't even know his options." Alice stopped. "You've never talked to him about this, remember?" Then, she kept going.

I didn't know how to counter that and remained silent as we reached Madison Ave.

"How about this?" Alice began. "You tell me how much it is, and I'll think about it."

"So, you'll do it? You'll give me the money?" My heart skipped and replaced the frog in my throat. _Calm yourself. She hasn't really said yes, yet. _

"No. I'll think about it."

"I'll find out how much it is and call you as soon as I find out. Alice, this will mean the world to him."

"Right." Alice groaned. "I really gotta go. Bye, Bella." She sped up, walking way too fast for me. Another couple of long blocks was Central Park and home. I didn't want to follow her, anyway. Edward could be there with Ben already. Walking down 5th with her was too much of a risk. She didn't seem to notice I wasn't following her, anyway. I guess she was as glad to get rid of me.

As she ran down 68th, I turned the corner on Madison.

So, I could trust her, after all. And even better, she'd help Edward. She said she would think about it, but if she didn't want to do it, she wouldn't have even asked for a dollar amount.

Alice would give me the money.

Edward would get his play on that Public Theater stage.

Everything would work out.

This was easier than I thought.

All I had to do was continue to lie to him.

* * *

**Bye :)**


	30. Chapter 28 Tolerance

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 28- ****Tolerance**

**August 11, 2010**

"Ben, I'd like you to meet Bella. Bella. Ben." Edward pointed at his friend and me at the appropriate intervals, although it wasn't necessary. I had been alone in the kitchen when Edward walked in, steamy with sweat, Ben in tow.

He was nothing like I remembered him. The makeup team for Hamlet did a great job in creating Horatio, who had wavy shoulder-length brown hair and pale white skin. Ben was blond (bottle) with a spray tan. His eyebrows were perfectly arched and bleached. His skinny jeans and t-shirt reminded me of Erik.

I turned off the stand alone mixer—a recent gift from Edward—and shook Ben's hand. Chocolate batter was on my finger and got onto his hand.

"Oh no! I'm sorry." I grabbed a hand towel (another gift) and began wiping his hands with it without thinking how awkward it was.

"I can clean my own hands." Ben smirked, glancing at Edward. Then, he smiled at me. "What ya makin'?"

"Chocolate cake for me," Edward answered. He stood behind me, kissing my ear. It tickled, and I giggled.

"You can have some, too, when I'm done," I promised a little too quickly. I hated how hot I felt. I felt like I could bake the cake on my face.

"Relax," Edward murmured in my ear. He kissed my ear again as I took a deep breath.

Ben shook his head with the same smirk. "Did you make it from scratch?"

With a curt nod, I scraped the edges of the metallic bowl with a spatula.

"Cool. Do you use vegetable oil or butter?"

"Umm..." I raised my eyebrows. _He knew how to bake?_

"Ben's father's one of those Food Network celebrities. Gregory Cheney?" Edward whispered in my ear. I nodded. The name was vaguely familiar, but I never had cable. So, I shrugged. This delighted Ben for some reason. He wriggled his eyebrows and laughed like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

"He sounds-"

"Don't say it," Edward murmured. "He'll do it all afternoon if you say it." Then, he kissed my neck and squeezed my hips. "We'll get out of your way. I know you like to work alone." He pulled away. "Ben?"

"I don't mind the company." I turned to look at Edward. His cheeks were as flushed as mine, and he smelled like paint. They both did. "I missed you this morning."

His eyes were light, a hint of mischief brewing in his depths. Right now wasn't a good time for that look.

A sudden two-note whistle interrupted us, and we both stared at a bemused Ben Cheney.

"You two aren't gonna fuck on the counter, are you?"

"No!"

"Jesus Christ, man!"

Edward and I said this in unison, my exclamation much squeakier. _Edward couldn't be friends with a quiet nerd, could he?_

"I'm just sayin'. Anyway, oil or butter?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna shower now. Try not to be a shithead to my girl, man." He turned and headed down the hallway. He even had a spring in his step.

"Never saw that before." Ben pointed at Edward's legs which quickly disappeared as he ran upstairs. "What do you put in this cake that makes him so giddy? Crack?" He wiped his index finger on the inner edge of the bowl, then sucked on it.

"No! No!" I reached for the eggs, turning on the mixer again and wishing I could bury my face in the bowl. He was too forward with me. I felt like if he looked long enough, he would find out everything that I had been trying to keep from Edward.

"You don't have to be nervous. I'm just an honest guy. It's what us New Yorkers have in our blood."

"Oh."

"What's next? A grunt? You can speak English. I know it. I heard it not five minutes ago. Come on. Let's hear it."

"Okay. Um... Fuck you." I picked up the remaining sifted flour/cocoa powder mix and slowly shook it into the bowl while the wide plastic beater went round and round.

"That's more like it. So, yeah, Edward's been... strange the last few weeks. Hasn't gotten one audition. He's usually an unbearable son of a bitch when he doesn't get his parts."

I knew this first hand, recalling how condescending he was after he lost the role of Macbeth. I hadn't seen that side of him in a while, though, not since the day we moved in.

"So, what is it? Ecstasy?" He leaned over the bowl, which I stopped mixing immediately. Crossing my arms, I sized him up as he stood up again to face me. He was a couple inches taller than I was and much bulkier than Edward's lean frame, but not as big as Jake. I also noticed a gold ring on his middle finger. It said "Yale" above a sapphire stone.

"I don't do drugs." Scraping the sides again, I asked him to move to the side so that I could get to the two pans near the sink across the kitchen. He gave me a once over with a bemused look on his face as if he didn't believe me. Then, he backed off with his hands up in surrender when I lifted the mixing arm and retrieved the bowl. From my periphery, I saw him press the button to release the beater from the mixer.

"That's good. Drugs are bad. So, why do you think he's so happy all of a sudden?" I heard him sniffing the beater behind me. _What a weirdo._

I shrugged when I reached the sink and poured the batter into the pan on the left.

"You're not gonna take credit, hunh? If I were you, I'd take it."

I stopped pouring to face him. _He wanted me to talk__? I'd talk alright._

"Do you wish you were me?" I had my suspicions in May that "Horatio" satisfied "Hamlet" in a way "Ophelia" never could because I was trying to prepare myself for Edward's rejection. There was no way a guy that hot could be straight in New York. That was my buffer for the embarrassing rejection that never came. Edward was straighter than a diving board, but "Horatio" clearly wasn't. And after Jasper, seeing Ben like this in person was enough to drive a girl like me into a girl as mad as Ophelia.

"Everyone at The New School wishes they were you. You got a real prize." He was cleaning the beater with the spatula. _Hunh, maybe he __had manners after all. Hopefully it was enough to keep his hands off Edward._

I twisted away from him to yank open the door to the stove, heating up again.

"But I've got a honey at home. You have nothing to worry about."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I slid the pans into the stove at the same time. Then, I turned the timer on for twenty-five minutes. They were heating up. I was cooling down.

"You _are _aware that Edward's a straight, All-American boy?"

I pushed the stove door closed but didn't face him when I said, "I do."

"You also know he loves you." I heard him take a step towards me, which is when I turned my head his way. I crossed my forearms on the stove door, resting my cheek on them. He was licking my spatula. I stifled my laughter.

"Mmm hmm."

"I'm shocked you're still with him, if I may be blunt." He tossed the licked-clean spatula in the sink.

"Blunt? You? Please!"

"Sarcasm. I like it." He scratched his temple. "Anyway, he told me you were really understanding, considering his past..."

"No one's perfect. And what happened didn't make me change my mind about him."

"Really..."

"You're asking so many questions..." I stood up, thumbing the belt loops on my jeans. I shook my head. _The__n again, of course he would. __He must__'ve been ill at ease because of my spying a couple months back. _"If this is about my spying on you two..."

"Spying?" He cocked his eyebrow. Folding his arms across his chest, he asked, "You spied on us? When?"

_Edward didn't tell him..._

"Long time ago. Um-"

"I've been blond longer than you've known Edward so not that long ago. What'd you hear?"

"I- nothing." I grabbed a clean towel to dry my sweaty hands. "I can't even remember what you spoke about."

He looked me up and down, a little glint in his eye. Then, he chewed the inside of his cheek.

"You know, another one of Edward's girlfriends ran interference with this play." He pulled his class ring off his middle finger, then put it back on. Back and forth it went.

"I'm not interfering with anything, I swear."

"This play means a lot not only to Edward but to me. I've wanted to play Big Daddy since I was in high school. I would sacrifice kittens to put it on."

"I'm not your enemy. I..." I tried to interrupt him, but he continued.

"I've tolerated a lot since collaborating with Edward. He's a good guy, only a few left in New York. I won't hesitate to make sure there won't be another fuck up."

"I'm just a normal girl who likes to bake chocolate cake, okay?" My voice shook as I walked down the hallway to the living room with Ben's footsteps thudding behind me.

"You're also the girl who took my best friend away from Jane Volturi. That's no small feat."

"I didn't. Edward made a choice. He chose me. I had no tricks up my sleeve."

"So, why the spying?"

"I..." I looked up the stairs, checking to see if Edward was on his way down. He could hear every word of this if he were out of the shower by now. But it was fine. I wanted him to hear this.

"I'm not forging a scheme, if that's what you think. The spying was a one-time mistake. I'm not gonna take the play away from either of you."

"You swear?"

"I do, on those kittens you'd sacrifice," I replied with a grin.

He leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. Looking up at the ceiling, he mused, "Jane's a conniving bitch." Slowly, he lowered his head to look down at me. "I'd watch out for her if I were you."

"I'm not gonna concern myself with her." I picked at a hangnail and bit into it. "Besides, I trust Edward to throw her to the wolves if she tries anything."

"The bull... She put us through so much bullshit, Bella." His tone held enough bitterness for the both of us.

"If Jane wants to come at me, she can. But look where she ended up the first time. She isn't a threat, never was." I plopped down on the couch.

"You just don't know her. She's Fatal Attraction on a good day."

I shrugged as he sat down much more carefully next to me. The scent of paint rose up along with the leather.

"What were you guys doing this morning? Why do you smell like paint?"

"We're building the sets for the show, Nancy Drew." He smiled, playful, which made me smile.

"Building sets?"

"Yup. We got the walls just right. You should come down to our storage unit to check it out."

I nodded. _Edward would _love _that idea. _

"I thought you could hire people to do that for you?"

Ben scratched his nose with a chipped fingernail. It was shiny with clear polish, though, as were the rest of his fingernails. They had been filed into a perfect shape once but were all cracked, now.

"I wish we did. I had to haul a metal headboard up a flight of stairs yesterday, and I've got the sore muscles to prove it. We can't afford a crew, and none of our friends are in town or are too busy. So, it's up to us. Edward didn't tell you?"

I shook my head, glanced up the stairs, then looked back at Ben.

_All I needed was a number, and Alice would give me the money. And maybe Edward wouldn't even have to know that the money was from me..._

"Looks like he's been keeping stuff from the both of us. That bastard," Ben sighed. "I'm gonna have to have a talk with him."

I shook my head again. Then, I picked up my phone, tapping through menus to contacts.

"What's your number?" I asked him.

"Why?"

I shrugged, typing in a text. I showed it to Ben.

_**Me:**__I may know someone who can help._

"Why not tell Edward? Why tell me?"

So many "why" questions from the most blunt man I had ever met. And he wouldn't keep his voice down. He was more skeptical of me than I was of him. Nevertheless, he could've written me off like Emmett did but didn't. He must've wanted to be friendly with me. I just needed to prove I was trustworthy and his trust would come.

I typed into my phone again.

_**Me: **__I don't want to let him down if it doesn't pan out._

With his eyebrows raised, he looked wary. Nonetheless, I typed his name into my phone: "Ben C."

"I'm not Jane." I handed him the phone. "I won't fuck you over."

He jabbed his huge thumbs onto the screen for his number. "Alright."

I didn't have to tell him everything. It was better if I didn't mention Alice. Edward kept some things from Ben but must've ranted about her a billion times.

When he handed the phone back to me, he finally got my intent to keep this quiet and whispered, "If you have a cousin who could sew or a friend who could donate storage space, it would help us-"

I put my index finger to my lips to hush him up. He cleared his throat with a nod.

"Anything you got, we'll take," he whispered. "And I'll never forget it. Ever."

As I hit "save," I heard Edward come down the steps.

"Is the cake ready?" He patted his flat stomach. "I'm starved!"

When I told Edward he'd have to wait hours for the cake, he winced, grabbed an invisible arrow in his chest, and fell back into the wall. Ben and I laughed at him, which sobered Edward from his recent near-death experience. His eyes were bright as he looked down on us, peaceful even.

Ten minutes later, Ben helped me get the pans out of the oven to the soundtrack of Edward's whining.

"Who needs frosting?" Edward asked, crossing his arms and eying the cake. I flipped them onto a cooling rack as Ben stood guard behind me.

"You do. You love my frosting. Now, go do... something. Isn't there a Giants game this afternoon?"

Edward shuffled off without another word. Nothing got him away like his beloved Giants.

When I pulled out the carton of angel hair pasta, Ben clapped gleefully. I felt like I had a chef from the Food Network give me pointers for free. He gave me unrequested tips on how to make it al dente, next. His infectious energy was hard to resist. I loved it instantly. Aside from his potty mouth, he wasn't a bad guy.

When he promised to take me to the Farmer's Market for "the freshest tomatoes in the city," I was intrigued. The sauce in the jar was like tar to him.

"Are you free Saturday?" he asked as I prepped the serving bowls.

"Yeah, I'm free every day," I told him.

"But not every night," Edward called from the living room. He was on his laptop working on something.

I blushed. Ben's brazen mouth rubbed off on Edward in a way that I liked. I didn't like it from Ben; I didn't know him. But I knew Edward, and everything he said tickled me. It was much preferred to his silence.

"It's a date. Union Square. Saturday at ten." Ben said.

"Did I hear 'date'? I don't think the Food Network existed the last time Ben went out with a girl." Edward called out again.

Ben went ahead and made a sailor blush with his comeback while I attempted to pour the sauce from pot to bowl. Some of it splashed onto the counter thanks to his string of colorful adjectives for Edward.

"Okay..." I wiped the counter with a deep deep blush. "I didn't know New Yorkers were so nice to strangers." I stared at him bent over, rummaging through our refrigerator.

"You don't know New York. I'll show you Saturday. And you don't have to probe me with those eyes of yours. If you're gonna do a probe, make sure it's anal." He shut the door and pivoted on his heels to face me. He had a sprig of parsley in his hands and winked at me.

"Ugh!" My mouth was bitter with bile. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand. "Do you have to be so crass all the time?"

"I don't have to. I want to. I like making young girls from out west turn green. It's an honor, Miss Swan." He hurried over to me, ripping the parsley leaves apart into tiny pieces.

"You don't have to listen to him, babe. Whack him across his head," Edward yelled. All three of us laughed at that. I could never hit Ben.

"So, free everyday, huh?" Ben asked when we had calmed. It was in a much lower voice. "Why?" He sprinkled the tomato sauce with the leaves.

"Just, um, wanted to take time off this summer. I graduate next year, so I needed it." I walked over to the sink to rinse the pot.

"Hmmm." Ben sighed behind me. "You're at Tisch, right?"

"Yeah. Love it there." My breath was short. I turned on the water, wishing this conversation to end, but then Ben came to stand next to me... again.

"I have a few friends who went there for undergrad but not for English. All actors. They made it sound like a party. Yale was a factory in China, but it's my fam's alma mater. Can't go messin' with tradition, right?"

"You wear your ring like you're proud enough." I jutted my chin out at his middle finger.

"Hell yeah. They put us through the ringer down there, and I'm damn proud of it. I wouldn't be able to do what I love without that training. I'd probably die if I couldn't do this well."

"I know Edward feels the same." I shut off the water.

His eyes stayed on me as our conversation stalled. I felt like I was a rat running a maze in a lab surrounded by the prying eyes of dozens of scientists.

"What about you? That's how you feel about your writing, isn't it? Edward told me your non-fiction essays are fantastic."

I was gonna answer when Edward ran in. His shirt half-off and his hair a mess atop his head, he dropped to his knees and wailed "Bella!" like Brando in _A Streetcar Named Desire. _

Thank God we were on the top floor. No one could hear him when he did that. And he had been doing it over the last month. It was his dramatic call for food, whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

I rolled my eyes, picking up the bowl of sauce. "Coming, Stan. Grab the spaghetti, Ben."

I was also thankful that Edward interrupted us at all. Ben would die without his craft, but I could manage just fine. I didn't need to write. I could chuck my why girl costume in a second without a tear.

I was numb to my entire experience at The New Yorker: Ms. Evanson, Kate, even Jessica. It all seemed like it belonged to someone else's life. My life, from right now to the day _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof _hit the Public Theater stage, belonged to Edward. And maybe even after then.

Ben and Edward traded barbs throughout lunch. I was thankful to Ben for not bringing up my offer or Edward's secrets. There were only laughs and mockeries of the tomato sauce, although Edward praised the "dark green leaves his mom used to put on everything when he was younger." Ben did his Pillsbury Doughboy laugh, and I stared at him, holding Edward's hand.

He eyed me, rolling his spaghetti onto his fork. Throughout dinner, I'd catch him watching me but never asked him why. It was obvious. He didn't trust me yet. I was certain that once I told him about the money, though, his eyes wouldn't be so skeptical.

Despite this, it was a good time, but what I wanted the most was to be alone with Edward. Sue me. I was an only child. I didn't like to share.

Eventually, Ben got a message from his "honey," and left us. Edward asked me to walked him out so that he could wash the dishes. He had insisted on doing them every time I cooked for him, which was essentially every time he ate.

"Save a slice of cake for me, will you?" Ben asked over his shoulder as he headed for the elevator.

"You'd have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands," Edward yelled from the table.

"I might as well bake another cake." I waved as the doors slid open. "See you Saturday."

The moment the doors slid closed, I sent him the text.

_**Me:**__How much did that bitch take from you?_

_7:34 p.m._

***Tolerance*******

"I liked Ben," I told Edward half an hour later. I lay on his stomach as he stroked my hair, as relaxed as a sleepy newborn.

We were waiting for the cake to cool. Well, I was waiting. Edward was whining up until a few minutes ago when I promised only twenty more minutes. He liked when I said anything took twenty more minutes. It was like Xanax for his inner child.

"He liked you_,_ too."

"You think so?"

"He'd be outta here the second I went up to shower if he didn't."

"Oh." I sighed. "Good."

"I heard you talking down here, about Jane." He furrowed his eyebrows together.

"I-" I cleared my throat, hiding my face in his chest. He laughed.

"You can't let Ben influence you. He'll never get that she's never coming back."

"What if he's right?"

"Ben's a certifiable neurotic freak. He questions everyone and everything and he's never right about any of it."

"Oh..." _Jumping the gun with that text wasn't a good idea at all. Now there was no way I could take it back._

"You look so worried. Relax, Bella. Stop mulling over what other people think." He pressed his fingers into the creases on my forehead to flatten them.

"They're not just other people." I frowned. "They're your friends and family. They mean a lot to you so I have to impress them."

"No, you don't." He turned my frown upside down with his thumbs. "None of them matter. I'm the one who has to live with you," he grumbled. I pinched him, which he loved. That was when he picked me up and lowered me down on my back. Those mischievous eyes came back.

"Baby, we can't tonight."

"Bella..."

"Mother nature dictates these cycles, not me."

Still, he dug his knee into the couch, forcing my legs open.

"There's a way around it, you know..."

"Around it? I only have one pussy, babe. There's nothing to go..." I drew a circle in the air with my finger. "...around."

"There are other options..." He kissed my chin, then my neck.

"You're not asking what I think you are."

"Just try it," he murmured into my neck.

_He was!_

I pushed him onto his backside and scurried up and off the couch.

"No way! No!"

Edward rubbed his right cheek, a sleepy smile crossing his face. "Relax, it was just a suggestion. No fun in your bum, alright?"

"It's gross." I shuddered.

"You haven't done it." He hopped off the couch and came to me. His grin was lopsided as he pulled me in his arms. "It's not gross."

"You have?" _Oh God! Was it with Jasper? They _were_ more than friends. Or was this the sex Al__ice__ was talking about?_

When he pulled away, I looked up to see him nod. "Back in L.A. I thought it was questionable, but she changed my mind."

"She?" _So... not Jasper. Which left... Hell!_

"Yeah, an old girlfriend." He looked me straight in the eye. "My first girlfriend, actually. Maria."

"Oh." _Oh fuck yes!_

"You look relieved. Who did you think it was?" He was still smiling, but he broke our gaze.

I didn't answer, but my cheeks heated, and I was sure I resembled the tomato sauce we had for dinner. Edward stroked my cheeks, kissing them.

"Liking anal is another nail in the coffin for you, hunh?"

I shrugged, rolling my eyes downward. "Well..."

"It really feels so good. Girls like it as much as guys. I promise." He took my hands, intertwining our fingers.

"You're just saying that."

"You're so stubborn. What's it gonna take to convince you?"

"Nothing. It's never happening."

"Yeah? That's what Ben said the night we tried it."

I nearly twisted his fingers off.

"What?"

* * *

**A/N:**

**I wanna thank all those who leave little nuggets of love for my fic in the review section. Each one of your reviews really means so much to me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!**

**Bye :)**


	31. Chapter 29 Malignant

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

**Thank you so much for the reviews last chapter. Gosh, some were so funny, I almost thought to change the first scene in this chapter lol.**

* * *

**Chapter 29- Malignant**

**August 11, 2010**

"_You a-and Ben_?" I thought I swallowed my tongue.

There was some choking. Edward bent me over, prompting me to breathe between his chuckles. After a couple minutes, I got air back in my windpipe. But the images were stuck in my brain forever like rubber cement.

_For heaven's sake! __Ben? The dude? The dude with the cock?_

He got a glass of water for me, which I swallowed too quickly. This resulted in a minute-long coughing fit on my knees on the floor.

"Bella, calm down. Breathe."

"You..." I began as the fit simmered down.

"Yes. Yeah, I slept with Ben. But it was only once 'cause it was one of the worst experiences of my life."

I sucked in a lungful of air and wiped my eyes. "Oh."

"Power plays and all that? I'm not a bottom."

"That you even know what that means!" I tossed the empty glass onto the couch, standing up. "So, you're bi?"

"Fuck no! I told you, I hated it. Never again."

"Are you sure?"

With his arms akimbo, he looked me up and down. "I didn't peg you as such a prim and proper girl. Where's 'The Liberated Woman'?"

"I'm not that girl anymore. That part of my life was a regrettable mistake I wish I could erase."

"Believe me, I'd erase that night with Ben, too."

"Really?"

Edward took my hands again, kissing my knuckles three times. It was becoming my favorite charming move of his. "I'd erase half of my life if I could, but I can't. I'm here looking into your beautiful brown eyes because of all the shit I did. I don't regret anything."

"Not even sex with Ben? Really?"

"Okay, a little bit. But it happened way before I knew you, and it won't happen again."

"Okay..."

"You look like you don't believe me."

"I do. I do. I trust you." I let go of his hands to rub my forehead with the back of my hand.

"Is Ben the first homo you met or what?"

"No." I looked away, which made Edward tilt his head to catch my eyes.

"Bella, come on."

"I'm totally comfortable with his sexuality." I looked him straight in the eye because I was telling the truth. Edward wasn't convinced.

"You're not homophobic, are you?"

"No, I swear. I love the gays. I love them. I just..."

He tapped his foot.

"Give me a break, will you? If you found out I slept with a girl, you'd freak out, too!"

His whistle made me roll my eyes, and I backhanded him across his chest.

"Make that my Christmas gift, will you?"

I remembered that lesbian sex scene in _Requiem for a Dream _that he liked so much and backhanded his chest again.

"Not happening."

"I'll loosen you up. One of these days, you're gonna have some real fun in this town."

I furrowed my eyebrows, squeezing his hands for a second then releasing them.

"What?" He asked.

"You just asked me to loosen up. I thought you never wanted me to change, mister?" I poked him in the chest. "I was perfect if I recall."

"You are." He squeezed my ass then slapped it. "Believe me."

"Edward! What's gotten into you?" Something was going on and, unlike what Ben thought, I couldn't take sole credit for it.

"Nothing. I'm the one who's _in_ you every night." He kissed my neck. "Except the last few."

"You're being _so_ crude."

He stopped kissing my neck to stand back. After a pause, he frowned. "I'll stop if..."

"No, it doesn't irk me or anything... I just don't get why you're like this now."

"I'm just in a good mood. Life's fucking beautiful."

"Are you sure that's all? Nothing happened that I should know about?"

"Yeah. You. You happened. Look, life's gonna throw a lot of lemons at me. I'm gonna get rejected by douchey directors, and I might have to act the part of Big Momma myself in this play, but it's all good. I got you. And this play is happening. Come January, it'll premiere at the Public Theater. But even if it doesn't, I still got you. You're all I need. I swear to God I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I never will, and you never will. I know it because I see it in you everyday. I see my future right here."

He pressed his fist over my heart. We stared down at it when I covered it with my hands. Then, we looked into each other's eyes. His eyes were glorious. Beatific. It was like he was possessed. I had never seen them like this alone. The last time he was this spirited was on stage as Hamlet. The glow of wonder in his eyes was all the happiness from the last month concentrated into an intense form of what I could only define as bliss.

He kissed me slowly before dropping his face into my neck. In that moment, all the guilt and uncertainty I felt from lying to him over the last month dissipated. Every lie I would ever tell him would be worth it for moments like this when he was so happy.

In a couple days time, I'd make his life sublime.

"So, we're breaking promises tonight?" I asked, stroking the back of his neck. "I can wake up tomorrow and be Elizabeth Taylor if I want?"

"Don't try it. You know she was flat as a pancake back there."

I laughed, and he joined in, our bodies vibrating at the same tempo. "No, the promise remains, with a few amendments."

"Like what? That I'll become a girl obsessed with anal?" I sniffled, enjoying the raucous sound of his deep laugh. _God, may I hear that __today, tomorrow, forever__._ I trembled from his potent joy. It fused in me, in my bones and blood. I soaked him in to never forget this moment. It was the first time we shared an emotion so completely before. I felt his heart beating. I could almost hear it as if it were my own.

"I've got other ways to get around that cycle of yours," he said, tilting his head to the right.

"Really..." I cocked an eyebrow, watching him head to the kitchen. Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he turned to me.

"I think..." He pondered for a second. Then, his mischievous eyes glimmered beneath a couple of wriggling eyebrows. "Yup, I know you made extra frosting for my cake."

I stood with my arms akimbo, looking at him up and down. "Just what do you think you're gonna do with that frosting, Mr. Cullen?"

He turned around, walking on without a word with his hands crossed behind his head. But I already knew what he was gonna do with it. Everything that was in him was in me and vice versa. We were never shaken before. We were fixed and connected, but it had never been close enough. Now, it was. We were the same.

My heart was his. His soul was mine. But not to own, to share. We shared one life. Forever.

I was about to follow him when my cell phone vibrated on the coffee table.

There was a message from Ben. Turns out, all my worrying about the paranoid New Yorker had been for nothing.

_**Ben C.:**__$10,000. If u have it I swear Id go str8 for u!_

_8:49 p.m._

***Malignant***

August 14, 2010

"So, that's your plan?" Ben grunted, introspective for a moment. Then, he pulled his aviators down from his head. He perched them on the tip of his nose to look over them and into my eyes.

It was an unbearably hot and sunny Saturday afternoon. The crowd exacerbated it to the point where I was about to go off on the next person who bumped into me.

"Yes. What do you think?" I spent all morning going back and forth with it but was one hundred percent confident it would work. Once Ben agreed to it, the money would be in Edward's pocket by tomorrow. Alice had no problem with the dollar amount when I told her yesterday morning. She loved my idea, in fact. Edward would never know this way.

Ben prodded a dark red tomato with his index and middle finger before dropping it into my beige canvas bag from Trader Joes. Ever the gentleman, he carried it for me.

"I think you already know what I think."

"I need you to do this for me, Ben. Please."

He picked up another tomato and walked to the line at the register. "What makes you think I would want to do this? You need to give it to him yourself."

"I told you. If I tell Edward where the money's from..."

"You won't even tell _me_ where it's from," he said over his shoulder.

"I did."

"Your mom?" he snorted and turned again for the register. The cashier was a short Mexican boy with a thick head of black hair, like a porcupine. Ben gave his bag to him to weigh on the scale. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes. It's the truth." I pulled out a twenty from my back pocket to pay the cashier but Ben's hand transferred his own crisp twenty to the young boy's grubby hand.

"Thanks," Ben said to the kid. Then, he took the change and handed me the canvas bag. When we rejoined the traffic of human bodies, he slowed his quick step to match mine. He walked as if he were late to a Broadway show when he'd arrived.

"Look, I know you mean well. And I know you have strong feelings..."

"I love him, Ben."

He patted my shoulder. "That's nice." I shrugged it off as he went on.

"I've known Edward for nearly four years now. The things he resents above anything are lies and liars. That's why he told you all about his past. He doesn't like keeping secrets from people he cares about."

"Oh please. He didn't tell me he was building the set. He never talks to me about the play. He keeps so much to himself."

"There's a difference between keeping things private and out and out deceiving someone."

"No, there isn't. It's lying by omission. I'd be doing exactly the same if you help me."

"He didn't omit what happened with Jasper did he?"

I scrubbed my cheeks with the palms of my hands until they felt raw, no comeback to that in sight.

"You think he wanted to tell you about that? But he did it anyway. He did it to prove how much the truth means to him. He's seen how the alternative tears people down."

"I'm not 'people'," I muttered.

Something flitted across his face, but it was gone before I could name it.

"I'm just trying to help you. He takes the truth seriously. One lie, and he'll never forgive you. Might as well be a malignant tumor to him."

"But..."

"No buts about it. You gotta tell him where this money's from, and you gotta let him decide if he wants to use it."

"What if..."

"You don't have any options. You either tell him the truth or I will. And if I do it, he'll leave you."

"He wouldn't," I said when we reached the curb on 14th and Broadway. Ben raised his hand to hail a cab.

"Wouldn't what? Leave you? Like he didn't leave his fiancée of three years without a blink when she deceived him? Last time I checked, I didn't see a ring on your finger." He grabbed my right hand, checking for one. I wriggled it out.

"She was trying to control him. That's not what I'm doing. I wanna help."

"Maybe. I guess you're right." A cab stopped in front of us but someone else, a tall redhead in a sharp black suit, got in before we could take a step. "Bitch," Ben muttered.

"Look, what if..." I remembered how he said how he'd sacrificed kittens for the play, and thought of another course of action. "I can give _you _the money, then. I want you to have it."

"What?"

"You told me how important this was to you. You said you've wanted to be Big Daddy since high school."

"I can't."

"Why not? Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed.

Licking his bottom lip, he dropped his hand to peer at me over his shoulder. "You sound like him, now."

"What?"

"I swear, he says that in exactly the same way: Jesus Christ."

"Don't change the subject. Accept this. I need this play to happen for Edward."

"It already is, Bella. Nothing's stopping us. We just need to skimp on some things and do more of the work, but it's okay. We can handle it. We've both done crew work before."

"He can't be bogged down by all this extra work. Not now." I bit into my lip over and over until it hurt.

"It's not that much, I swear. And you've seen him. He's happier than a fat kid at the M&M's store these days."

"He is... but there can't be anything stopping you from putting this on. The money could be a buffer."

"Wait." He grabbed both of my shoulders. "Why do you wanna do this for him so badly? You want something in return?"

"No! I already told you. I don't wanna be involved with this production at all. It's yours and Edward's, not mine."

"So?" His blue eyes bore into mine.

"So what? I just need to help him."

"You keep saying that. You don't _need_ to help him. He's fine."

"No..."

"What the fuck's wrong?"

"Nothing." I rubbed the back of my neck. The heat was unbearable. "Everything's fine."

"That's what I think. You, apparently, _have _to do this or the goddamn world will blow up. You make it sound like it's life or death with you."

At that phrase, I cringed. This prompted Ben to let go of my shoulders. He stood back, taking off his aviators and stared at me. He folded his glasses over the collar of his faded black t-shirt.

"Bella." His brow was furrowed as he looked me over. I felt like a lab rat again under his suspicious gaze and turned away. A long accordion M14 bus pulled away from the bus stop and rejoined traffic. I wish I could be on that bus. I wish I could take back everything I had said. This was not going as I had planned at all.

"Ben, it's not... life or death."

He scratched his right temple. "If you're in trouble, I can help, okay?"

But he couldn't. No one could help Carlisle right now, least of all him.

"What if I told you I did it to keep him happy? I need Edward to be happy."

"Do I have to remind you of the spring in the dude's step the other day? He's on a fucking high right now."

I bit my tongue. How could he know everything Edward's experienced and not need to protect him? He was so unlike Alice and Emmett, and even Ms. Evanson who had trepidations about Edward's reaction to Carlisle's illness. They knew Edward long before he got bit by the acting bug. They knew about Jasper's situation intimately.

If he had seen Edward break down at the memory of his childhood friend, he would understand why he needed this money. Ben didn't see him the day Liam died. If he had witnessed his friend in that kind of grief, he wouldn't hesitate to help me with this.

_So __I _did _know Edward better._ He might have known Edward liked fresh parsley in his tomato sauce, but that was just a preference. He didn't let Ben in. He didn't even tell him that I spied on them. He let me in, and I wouldn't do a damn thing to fuck him up while on the inside, least of all let Ben fuck this up.

"Hey." He rubbed my shoulder. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"I just know what I'm doing here. I know this is right."

"Okay." He shook his t-shirt at the collar, trying to cool off. "Okay, now what if I said yes to this plan of yours?" Ben pulled me closer to him, dodging a bike messenger by a hair. I was getting sick of Union Square's hustle and bustle. I missed the serenity of Lenox Hill. And all these questions Ben asked didn't help. "I take your ten grand and tell Edward I got it from a dead uncle. How long do you think I could keep lying to him? Months? Years?"

"I don't know all the answers. I don't."

"You're asking me to lie to my best friend, but you don't have all the answers?"

"It's not that serious." I bit back a curse. "What? You never lied before? This is important!"

"So, it is." The something I couldn't name before hit me smack dab in the face. It was recognition. He looked at me like he'd been in this exact situation before looking at the last girl he didn't trust: Jane.

Ben put his aviators back on. "You're keeping something from Edward and me. I had my suspicions Wednesday, but I know it now."

"I'm- It's not what you think."

"You're compensating for something," he said to himself. Slowly, he walked ahead of me. "Shit!" He twisted his neck around. "You're overcompensating."

"I'm not."

"Moving in with him after only a few months. Being so friendly with me, a guy who's slept with him. Jane couldn't stand the sight of me. But you're so... tolerant. Too tolerant, in fact. You do nothing all day but cook him meals and bake cakes. Now all this money. For what? The lying! To do what?"

"To help Edward. I'm not overcompensating. I'm telling you everything."

"Right." He worked his jaw, raising his hand again to hail a cab. "It's a stupid plan, Bella." A mustard-colored SUV with a cab roof ad from Gentleman's Club stopped at his feet.

"Let me explain it again. I just need you to understand-"

With one foot inside, he stopped and turned halfway to face me.

"I would start looking for another place to live if I were you."

"_What?_"

He slammed the door shut and the cab drove away, beating the light before it turned red.

"No." I rubbed the back of my neck again. _He wouldn't. _

Then, I stopped rubbing, realizing that Ben was right. I did begin to share Edward's mannerisms. I kind of liked it. It made me feel that much more in tune with him.

Twisting the canvas bag in my hands, I watched the cab slow behind the row of cars on the next block. The back of Ben's head appeared in the backseat. They were in the middle of the block, traffic and a red light keeping them close. So, I did the only sensible thing and ran after him.

When I caught up, out of breath, I saw that he was on the phone. I wanted to run from the sidewalk to his car door, but the light changed again. Too quickly, they sped off. My stomach heaved, and my arms became numb.

_He wouldn't. Edward couldn't find out today, not like this._

"Oh God."

_What have I don__e?_

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye :)**


	32. Chapter 30 Rocks

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :(**

**This is heavy.**

**I'm sorry.**

**I'll warn you of the angsty chapters with a "Hi :(" in my A/N. This means that it is heavy and I'm sorry. Unfortunately, there are a bunch coming up. **

**This chapter contains abuse. It's not graphic but I didn't want that to surprise those who can't bear that. **

**I'm sorry.**

* * *

**Chapter 30- ****Rocks**

**August 14, 2010**

"This is Edward Cullen. Please leave a message after the beep, especially if you have lots and lots of money."

I cursed. Then, I tapped his name on my screen again, watching his picture come up from his Facebook page. I never took a candid of him. I may never if Ben was right.

"_He takes the truth seriously. One lie and he'll never forgive you. Might as well be a malignant tumor to him.__."_

Ben said everything I had been thinking ever since I spoke to Ms. Evanson in July. He told me everything that I knew was right. The truth _was_ what brought absolution. The truth _did_ lead to happiness. I should've stuck with my instincts. How could I expect to control this shit like I was some sort of god?

_No, he will understand. He will forgive me. _

Of course, there was traffic on 6th Ave. all the way to 59th. The cab driver was nice enough, attempting at small talk in his broken English. But I couldn't understand a word he was saying and by the time we reached Central Park, I begged him to shut up.

I needed to think. How was I going to tell Edward the truth without crushing him? Right now, the truth was as dirty as the lies.

When we arrived at 880, I threw a couple twenties at the driver. "Keep the change." I kicked the door shut, running inside. At the front desk, Vincent, the doorman, greeted me with a warm smile.

"Miss Swan, Mr. Cullen left a gift for you." He took a while to bend down behind the desk. When he stood up again, he held a white rectangular box with a red bow in his craggy hands.

"Thank you, Vincent." Gently, I took it from him. "Is Edward home?"

"Yes Miss."

"Did you see him with his friend?"

"Yes, fifteen minutes ago," was his hoarse answer.

Last week when I was coming back from the supermarket, Vincent handed me a much lighter box wrapped in red ribbon. Inside were the embroidered hand towels for the kitchen. A week before, coming back from the bookstore, the box was much heavier. It was the stand alone mixer. Both had cute little notes to them about how I'd put these to good use. This box had a tiny note hidden in the folds of ribbon. It was very different from the others.

_You will be great. - Edward_

I didn't want to open the gift. Whatever was inside had to be returned because I was nowhere near as great as Edward deemed.

Rushing to the elevator, I pushed the button to our floor. The box's weight was fair enough, five pounds at most. I could tap the wall with this box, which was what I did until the elevator dinged and the light behind "PH E" went out. When the doors opened, I ran out and bumped into Ben.

I shoved him back into the hallway.

"_What did you just do? What did you do?_"I hollered, using my entire body to push him into the wall over and over. He was so big, he barely moved. Instead, he just stared at me with wide blue eyes, silent.

"Say something, goddammit!"

"Bella? Is that you?" I heard my favorite baritone voice from inside the penthouse. He didn't sound angry. Edward didn't sound sad, either. He sounded normal.

Ben had left the door ajar, white light from inside flooding the dim hallway. The voice might as well have been from God himself.

"Yes. I'm coming," I called back. Ben backed away, then, as if he had just seen a ghost. He jumped when he hit the wall, spinning around and stumbled inside the car.

"What happened?" I asked Ben again. But he was in the elevator, punching the button for the ground floor. "Ben!"

The doors shut, and I got no reply. I expected self-righteousness from the most blunt man I knew. Instead, he was stunned. Fifteen minutes was a long time to ruin a girl's life. Ben's reaction looked like he did more than that, though. He looked like he had seen death incarnate. Now, I would have to go face death blind and bare. This could be the end of my life, and I didn't know the first thing to do.

_You do. The truth. The only thing to do is tell him the truth. He loves you. He will forgive you._

It was as if the why girl were speaking to me.

"Bella?"

That's when I saw him. He wore a white t-shirt and blue jeans, both covered in splotches of red paint. His hands had a melange of colors: yellow, green, purple, but mostly red. It looked like he had washed them off a long while ago, but the essence of the paint remained, faded into his skin. His cheeks were smooth, which meant he probably got some on his beard. His face was clean and so young. He looked so young everywhere but his eyes.

The bliss had been replaced.

"You have something to tell me?" He sounded fine. I didn't understand it. His voice and his eyes didn't match. Then again, it was a mere glimpse. I didn't dare look into his eyes for more than a second.

_Maybe he was okay. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't at his limit._

"I do?" I walked into the apartment, hugging the box to my chest, the bag of tomatoes banging against my side with each step. The foyer was as serene as it ever was. But the living room...

"You do." He slammed the front door behind him, and I jumped with a squeak. When I peeked over my shoulder, he was leaning against the door with his hands folded behind his neck. I turned away as he dropped his head back on the wood. "Tell me everything."

"Edward..." I looked out the terrace doors. Well, what was left of them. The glass was shattered into pieces, the summer heat blasting into the living room. The curtains billowed from the wet heat. It was never as hot up here as it was today. Ever.

My former visions each morning of what his eyes would be like the moment I told him the truth flooded my mind. The dreaded viridian awaited me. But I was afraid the visions wouldn't compare to the haunting reality of it. My breath caught in my throat. What if it was worse?

_No, you've already seen him at his worst. You have a scar on the back of your neck to remind you of what will never happen again._

"I don't wanna hear excuses." His voice was closer to me now. He wasn't in the foyer anymore.

"I don't have any." I remembered his eyes every morning throughout our entire summer. My green pools. They steadied me.

"Yeah? That's not how Ben tells it. I hear you've come into some money."

I lowered my left arm to let the bag fall to the floor. My heart thrummed.

"I haven't. Not yet." Then, I walked up to the edge of the terrace steps. The midday sun brought the whitest light into the room. It was the sole source of warmth. The man behind me was cold.

"Not yet? What do you mean?"

"I would've gotten it today if..."

"If what?" His voice rose and became so loud. "_If Ben lied to me?_"

I tightened my grip around the box. It wasn't that long. It ran down from my chin to my breasts. It had no scent, either. I thought of all its possible contents because I couldn't think of an answer to Edward's question. I was just kidding myself, though. I had no choice but to.

I heard his heavy steps behind me right before he grabbed my arm and whipped me around.

"You think if you don't look at me, the lying will be easier, don't you? You need time to come up with more?"

"Please... don't." I couldn't look up at him, staring at his heaving chest instead. Inside was a heartbeat he kept calm when he wanted to. He was a master of controlling his desire. Now, the beat raced and pounded in him. His hands trembled on my bicep where he held me. It was a rough hold. It was stone cold. The last time he held me like this was in his old apartment.

_No. No, Edward w__ould__ never __hurt __me like that again. He__'s not what they all want me to think he is. He's good. He's pure._

His voice became calm again. He could've been talking about baseball. "Ben had a funny idea about you. He thought you wanted to be a co-producer for my play. Isn't that the strangest thing you've ever heard?"

"I would never-"

"I asked him why would he even think such a thing. You never spoke to me about it. Why would you wanna help me produce this play and not say one word to me?" His voice was low and steady. He sounded so calm. The only reason I knew he wasn't was because he gripped my arm so tight, I was numb from my forearm to my hands.

"I can't feel my hands."

Edward ignored me.

"He said, 'If we have another Jane on our hands because of you...' and I stopped him. I wanted to punch him in the face for that fucking shit. Where did he get off accusing you like that? I almost punched him in the face, Bella." His voice faded into a whisper as if he were nearly done recounting his conversation with Ben. But no, he was getting revved up.

"I'm sorry."

"He didn't believe me." He continued, not registering my apology. "He swore you'd be able to get your hands on ten grand real quick. I told him you don't have access to money like that.

"'Drug dealers do,' he said. He was laughing but totally serious. He even thought your family was in the mob. Can you believe that?" He snorted. Then, he laughed, sounding eerily like he did when he played Hamlet.

"No, I can't." My voice was small compared to his. His filled the room like an anvil.

Vehemently, he snatched the box from my hands. I winced from the charged energy. After a breath, he rolled his shoulders and tossed the box over to the couch across the room.

_This couldn't be like it was last time when I spied on him. He wouldn't hurt me. Ms. Evanson and Alice were wrong._

With the box out of my hands, I had nothing else to concentrate on. I searched the room for something else, anything. My gaze fell onto the coffee table.

"That's what stumped me." He began speaking so quickly, his words bled into each other. "How could you get ten thousand dollars so quickly, huh? Who do you know? Your mom doesn't have it. Who'd you ask? Your dad? You never talk about him. Did he win the jackpot? He a gambler?" He pulled me into his chest, yanking my face up to his. "Look at me when I talk to you, dammit!"

"I-" I couldn't catch my breath. My lungs felt like they were filling up with rocks. He already figured out where I got the money. I knew this because on the coffee table was his Iphone. His screen's backlight was on with a list of recent calls. And at the top of the list was the girl he demanded I never see again.

"Edward..." I whispered with my eyes squeezed shut. His forehead jammed onto mine. His breath was sweet. He smelled like paint and milk and chocolate cake.

"Your daddy doesn't have any money, either, does he? Who's left in your group of lame-ass friends? Jacob? There's the winner. He get a record deal yet?"

Hearing Jake's name pulled me out of the frigid water I was drowning in. That 'lame-ass friend' told me countless times about what real love was. I gasped for air, pushing Edward back, remembering Jake's words to me last April.

"_She really makes me happy. Don't you see that? I don't think I will ever meet another girl like her."_

I told him he was a fool. How could he trust a woman who betrayed him? Now, I was the woman who betrayed the trust of the man I loved. I was Leah. Here was a man who loved me more than Jake loved Leah. If they could make it work...

_All __you __need to do is tell him the truth. He'll forgive __you__._

"I'm sorry." I openly sobbed, my emotions flowing like lava down to my legs. My tears were burning. From my limbs to the strands of my hair, I could've melted any second. My heart could've exploded from the heat. This was all before I made the mistake of opening my eyes.

This close, I saw the viridian was no more. What coated his eyes was much worse.

"Sorry? That's all you have to say to me?" He grabbed my arms again but immediately let me go. Still, my arms were frozen from his chilled palms. I shook them, unable to reconcile his frost to my fire.

His shoulders tightened. Everything tightened, especially his eyes. His eyes spoke in volumes of fury that could break the sound barrier. Up my legs, that fury climbed and seeped to my fingertips like icy Arctic water. It weighed me down until I had no more energy left to sob.

"Sorry? After you asked that fucking cunt for money?" Balled up fists formed at his side.

"You... needed it..." All of a sudden, my legs swung off the floor. Edward flung me onto the couch nearest us. My body hit cushion, rebounding, then sunk into the leather as he climbed over me.

"Alice told you I needed her fucking money, didn't she?" he shouted down. "Fuck!" He punched the wall to his right, cracking the plaster. His muscles were taut. His skin was crimson from the edge of his ears to the tips of his fingers. "She must've told you everything I ever did to her."

"God..." A wave of nausea swept over me. I had to shut my eyes to keep steady.

"She was afraid for you."

"She doesn't matter, baby. I'm not."

"She must've told you I beat her..."

"No!" I gasped.

"... That I sent her to the emergency room and almost killed her." He leaned down, seething into my ear. His cold breath made me shiver. "I bet she was afraid I'd do the same thing to you."

"You think I will, too! Don't you?" His hold around my jaw tightened then his thumbs slid down to the middle of my throat. His voice became dull like a blunt object, like a baseball bat to my skull, pounding it until it became sand. "You think I'll hurt you."

"Never," I choked out. "You wou-" His thumbs pressed down mid-sentence, cutting off the airflow. I was glad for it. I didn't want the air. I didn't deserve it. I failed him and Emmett was right. I couldn't be his stability.

When he released me a second later, I swallowed as much air as I could into my heavy lungs. He pushed himself off of my chest.

"After... I would never..." he whispered. I opened my eyes to see him shut his. All color drained from his face. His chest rose and fell so quickly, as if it were about to blast off. Then, he began to talk and never stop.

"You and- you aren't... _her_. You ar- were- You-"He opened his eyes and looked into mine as if he were lost, but in his next breath, his fury returned.

"_Alice had to pay. I beat her for all the shit she put me through. But it wasn't enough. She's alive, and Jasper's dead. And if it wasn't for my dad, I'd be in jail for doing something no one else dared to do to that bitch. I wish I killed her, Bella. And look what she's _doing _to you! Yet you doubt me? _Me!"

"No." My heartbeat slowed. I saw him through the sliver of my eye.

"_Why the fuck did you talk to her? Why?" _He grabbed my shoulders and shook me like a rattle.

And here lay a dirty truth that would turn his fury into the deepest sorrow.

"_Tell me!"_

I covered his hands. As if my touch were a soothing salve, he loosened his grip.

"You needed to focus, Edward." I breathed. "You needed the money for the play... to escape."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Escape what?" The vitriol in his voice brought me to the brim. When his next wave of pain poured into me, who knew what would come of me, of us both?

"Carlisle."

"My dad?" He released my shoulders, and I felt his weight shift back to my thighs. He sat back on his heels with his arms crossed. "What the hell does he have to do with any of this?"

"Baby. Your dad..."

"What?" he bellowed. "What happened?"

I clawed at my neck, already seeing it, already feeling it. It was down in my bones deeper than the fury had just been or the joy that had blossomed all over my body this summer. All of those emotions we wordlessly shared were on the surface and easily replaceable. But the sorrow would remain in my bones because it had been in his for the last ten years of his life. The darkness would shroud him again.

"What happened to my dad, Bella?" He didn't yell. He spoke so softly, I almost missed the end of his question.

"Baby, Carlisle's dying."

The change in his eyes wasn't immediate.

"_No, it's another lie. Why should I believe you?_"

"_Who told you? Alice?_"

"_And Esme? That's who you believe? That bitch and her conniving mother?"_

Listening to his accusations was like getting stabbed repeatedly. I felt bloodless. Every minute left me weaker and weaker.

"_After Jasper died, Alice told everyone in L.A. that I raped her. I never touched her. I would never touch that bitch. But everyone else believed her. She was a thirteen year old saint to them, even my father. No one sees her for what she really is. She will be a cold-hearted pathological liar until the day she fucking dies. Fuck!"_

I didn't know how to absorb any of this. Alice was so sincere every time I spoke to her. She told me she slept with Edward, a topic that he continued to deny but never broached until now. And he was telling me this convoluted story about rape and beating Alice? I didn't understand any of it as these words fell from his lips like rocks. I didn't have enough time to shield myself from them, either, as his fury rained down on me.

"Why can't you see it, huh? She wants something from you like she wanted it from Jasper, and she will destroy you."

"Call... Emmett." I was exhausted. My body was a gelatinous goop. He still sat back on my thighs, but I felt like all his weight rest on my chest. Every breath I took was a belabored one. I couldn't keep my eyes open.

"_What? You're still gonna believe Alice?"_

I did. She was too worried about Carlisle when I saw her on Wednesday. She wouldn't put on an act like that, twice. She couldn't. And Ms. Evanson couldn't either... right? Now wasn't the time to second guess them, anyway. Whatever the truth was was on the West Coast.

"Ed- Emmett, please...Emmett."

"Fuck!"

He jumped off the couch, swiping his iPhone off the coffee table. He jabbed the screen with his forefinger and began pacing.

"Yo, where's dad? I need to talk to him." He rubbed the back of his neck. "What you mean I can't? Where is he?"

"_Tell me what the fuck is going on." _

"_Emmett, tell me the fucking truth."_

The phone slipped from his fingers.

There it was.

My vision was blurry, but I could see it. It swirled within his green pools. It altered the hue completely and snuffed out his light. The old wounds reappeared, replacing the shine.

The sorrow possessed him.

The sorrow destroyed me.

*******Rocks*******

He screamed. He screamed so loud. His words were like blades slicing me into pieces. I became a loosening bundle of fragments.

I shielded my face with trembling arms. I couldn't feel my hands, anymore. I felt only sorrow.

I tasted blood in my mouth when he gently pulled my arms down off my face. I wasn't sure if it was because he struck me. My mouth didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. I swallowed the thick blood.

My heart sank to the earth when he pulled us to the floor and wept on my lap. He was all red, like the paint on his shirt, like my blood. His face was drenched because his tears mixed with mine.

His voice was soft above me. I didn't understand his words. When he stroked my cheek, his fingers were as cold and hard as ice.

I pinched the inside of my arm repeatedly when I heard the front door slam.

*******Rocks*******

I lay on my side on the couch, the heat from the terrace lulling me to a sleep I didn't want to come. I knew once my subconscious took hold of me, I'd have nightmares of what transpired an hour ago.

My body was sore. My throat was cool. I saw blood on the floor and on the rim of a glass in front of me. I tasted it in my mouth but didn't feel any pain.

The tingles were like sparks all over my body.

The first time he left was for his workshop that never was. Even though it lasted a few minutes, a fever set in. Then, came a dizzy spell. Finally, a dry cool emptiness in the pit of my stomach that slowly spread throughout my body. The distress and dread galvanized the emptiness, which was when I ran after him. Now, I couldn't run and was afraid I would become nothing but a shell, waiting for my final breath.

But this wasn't the end.

Edward was inside of me, and I was inside of him. Our love was more potent than lies or truths or death. My heart beat the way it did right now because of him, and it would continue to beat because it was sure of his return.

The pain was still coming, but I could handle it. This wasn't the end.

He was my life. If he left me for good, then my heart would've stopped beating.

The fever seized me, making me drowsy. Too easily, my memory of his screams tore through me. They were out of sequence, though. At least they seemed to be. They might have been...

"_You thought you were protecting me? My father could die tomorrow, Bella."_

I blinked, the rest of the conversation hazy. With another blink, I recalled hearing Beethoven's joyous second movement play softly in front of me. His voice was outside. Maybe half a dozen flower pots smashed on the concrete. Maybe a dozen?

"_I'm getting on the next flight to L.A.__You don't need to worry about Bella.__ I won't.__"_

That's when the tingles started.

Every few minutes, Beethoven came on but I didn't bother picking up. I checked my phone the first two times and knew the next few would be from her. Every time I brought her into my life, Edward pulled away. No, I would never pick up another call from Alice.

He was everywhere in this penthouse, but he wasn't. Each remnant of him was hope. I blinked, trying to stop the room from spinning. The ceramic horses circled in my vision a couple of times before I closed my eyes. He wouldn't have left so many things behind if he planned to stay gone.

Eventually, memories of his words washed away my hope like the rain.

"_Ben was wrong. You're worse than_ _Jane ever was. You're a liar. You let Alice turn you into a fucking liar."_

I was hollow, the scorching hot air doing nothing to warm me. The wind blew the glass down the steps and beneath the coffee table. I couldn't even get up to call the maintenance man to replace the doors. These were all _things_ anyway. The glass was just glass. The wood floors could crack, and I could fall right through.

He was no longer inside of me. A shadow of him was left, a ghost untethered. I grappled with the chains to keep him inside, but it was of no use.

The dread coated the emptiness, then.

This was the end.

And that's when I fell.

"_Maybe I never knew you. Bella Swan, you're a stranger. I never saw you. I never loved you."_

_*****_**Rocks***** **

_June 20, 2011_

My life left me that day.

In the following months, so many things changed. And every moment over the course of those months led to my decision to leave him.

So many people surprised me, especially Jake. He taught me so much about love, about ideals that I thought I'd find in Edward. But Jake had them all along. And more than that, he forced me to see me again.

Jake was crucial to my decision, but Alice changed my life. I wish I could have heeded Edward's warnings, but I couldn't. I had to understand Alice's whys. And in that process, she changed the way I thought about myself, about the world, and about Edward.

Without Alice, I would've never been able to leave him.

* * *

**A/N: This is the end of part ****2, which started out with "Fleeing****.****" Part 3, "Growing," is the next update. **

"**Growing" is a continuation of what happened in "Fleeing." So, this means there is a time shift to the present. If you remember in****"Fleeing," Bella had just left Edward and ran out to the stormy city streets, alone, with no idea what to do or where to go.**

**Bye :)**


	33. Part 3 Growing

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

**As with the beginning of Part 2, Part 3 begins with a glimpse of the present. Here is "Growing."**

"**Growing" is a continuation of what happened in "Fleeing." If you remember in "Fleeing," Bella had just left Edward and ran out to the stormy city streets, alone, with no idea what to do or where to go.**

* * *

**Part Three- Growing**

**June 20, 201****1**

No tingles.

No fever or dread or emptiness.

I don't even feel hollow inside and don't understand why. Every other time we've parted, I felt incomplete, incapacitated even. Tonight, I feel like I could breathe. My mind is clear and a serenity sweeps over me unlike anything I have ever felt before.

I run all the way up to 80th St., soaked to my bones, dirty with rainwater, but feeling good. So good.

Then, I proverbially kick myself. I didn't plan for this at all, leaving my cell phone and all my other belongings at the penthouse. Now no one can get a hold of me or I, them. I never bothered to remember their numbers, either. I think the only number I know is my dad's because he's had the same number since I was six, but I can't call him. I'll never hear the end of it if he were to take me back to Forks. My dad is not an option. He will never be one.

As I drop my head back, the warm water flooding my ears and mouth, I worry if the real pain will come later, late at night when I'm sleeping in a strange bed, alone, without Edward's arm around my waist. Or when I awaken to a world of white instead of green, would I run back into his arms to drown in his eyes?

Then again, who did those eyes belong to?

"_Hollywood__'__s made of lies and liars. I will never be one of those people. I will never be a liar, Bella." _

Edward told me this last year. The stage is his safe haven, his classroom, his nirvana. Hollywood is a cesspool of imitators and phonies. He would never make a film. He wouldn't follow Brando's footsteps. He would chart his own course on stage, the only medium where he found Truth. This is what he said adamantly not only to me but the NY Times for fucks sakes. The Edward I love would stay in New York.

Love. God, how could I claim that? It isn't love. It never was.

I shake my head, screwing my eyes shut over something even more infuriating than Edward's raison d'etre. He never told me he sent the audition tape. After five months, after we promised to be open with each other, he lied to me.

Yes, my decision is apt. I am doing the right thing. It's time I stop thinking with my heart and start thinking with my brain. My heart hurt so much for so long, it needs tranquility. The why girl will know how to take over from here. Perhaps she'll be strong enough to assuage the pain... which has yet to take hold of me.

Flummoxed by the absence of it, I walk over to the nearby building, leaning into the warm rough cement.

_What's wrong with me? This should be harder._

"Bella!" I hear a familiar baritone voice behind me, but it's not Edward's. I get so hot, I swear the water drops on my skin turn to steam. I never thought I would hear this voice again.

"What are you doing here?" I turn to look up into the fudge brown eyes of a man who I thought would be at Edward's side tonight, not mine.

"I'm here to help, Bella." Emmett popped the collar of his polo and walked over to me to share his umbrella. "We wouldn't have asked you to do this for Edward without helping you."

"I- I don't need your help. Your brother needs you."

"Edward will be fine. Come on, let's get you out of the rain." Emmett moves to take my hand, but I cross my arm around my middle.

"You didn't see him, Emmett. He's really hurting."

"He's gonna get help, but you gotta come with me now."

His log-like arms curl around my shoulder, and he guides me to a black Mercedes at the curb. It's his father's car. The last time I was in there, Carlisle was the one who shared the backseat with me. I never wanted to return after that talk, yet here I am.

"To the Plaza, Peter." Emmett says to the curly-haired faceless driver, and we depart.

Emmett hands me a bottle of ice cold water which I gulp down to the last drop. It's delectable after an afternoon and evening of crying. I shiver when I'm done. The AC in the car is on full blast.

"Why are we going to the Plaza?" I accept a gray Stanford sweater he hands me and pull it over my head. Rubbing my hands together, I hear him pull out his iPhone to make a call instead of answering me. This was a Cullen trait that frustrated me to no end. They kept mum on just about everything. I used to think Edward was purposefully taciturn, but it looked to be genetic.

"Yeah, I'm headed to the Plaza right now." He listens. Then, he says, "Good. I'll see you in half an hour." He hangs up.

We stare straight ahead, the rain making the city blurry and abstract. He is silent beside me. This is the brother of a man I would've married. I have seen him countless times. Hundreds of words passed between us since Christmas, yet I know as much about him as I do Quantum Physics.

Just then, I hear the driver hum a song on the radio. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't put my finger on it until it reaches the chorus.

It's "Keys," Jacob's song from his new album.

When Jake gave me the first ten tracks for Christmas, I was inundated with one booty-shaking song after another. This song was the sole ballad. The moroseness that got to me the moment I heard it hits me now. It isn't the best record. It sounds so much like Bruno Mars. But it does make my stomach tense, something Bruno's songs never do. I clutch it, thinking of Jake's whereabouts now.

He must be in San Diego, just beginning the final leg of his tour. Who knows where he'll go next? He has so many opportunities ahead of him. He has talent and such a big heart. And if this song becomes a hit, he'll have money, too, something he and his family never had before. He would make Billy so happy and his mom must be smiling down on him now that he gets to live his dream.

When I hear the line, "I wish I was a smarter man. My songs just won't do," I thank the stars he broke up with Leah. Finally. Jake deserves a girl to tell him he was smart everyday. Now with his success, he can have any woman he wants.

Jake's bright future is blinding compared to mine. Mine is a dark labyrinth in comparison, but it was nice to know at least one of us will excel in life.

I rub my cheeks, realizing what this means. This is it. He won the bet. And now he's the most famous kid from Forks.

My stomach churns.

When the song ends, we're at the front of the Plaza.

"Why don't you just let me go?" I plead with Emmett.

"It's not in Carlisle's or my best interest." Emmett lowers his gaze and pulls at the crease in his khakis. "We want you to be well."

"Why do I have a hard time believing that?" I turn to look into his eyes. "You wanted to make sure I left him and stayed gone, didn't you?"

He shrugs. "You don't have to believe anything I say. We're here now, so let's go."

Emmett is as chatty as a monk as we walk through the lobby and ride the elevator up to the 10th floor. Continuing to mull over his generosity, Edward's words in the elevator echo in my mind.

"_My life."_

I was his life after a turbulent year. It all passed by so quickly, especially after Alice left and I moved back into the penthouse. I blot out the Fall, wrap it up in kindling and burn it. It doesn't exist. November never happened. All that matters is 2011. The past will no longer hold me in shackles. I live for the future, and I have my life to define. This life can't be Edward's anymore. It belongs only to me.

The white door at the end of the hallway opens slowly with a frail pale hand. The cold dark green eyes of a man who prodded me for months to leave Edward judge me. A Giants cap covers his bald head instead of the black beanie he wore the last time I saw him in March. His white button down and gray slacks hang off his thin body. Emmett must've had a hard time feeding him.

"Bella, it's nice to see you," Carlisle slurs. His words are hard to understand, but he chews through each syllable as best as he can. With every word, my confusion about being here disappears. Emmett and Carlisle _do _wanna make sure I follow through. Edward is all alone and they choose to be here, finalizing their executed plan.

I see a white robe and toiletries on the bed. A wingback chair is near the bed, as stately as a throne. Across the bed is a TV that sits on top of a large mahogany dresser. Nothing else is on the dresser save for a white envelope. There are more bottles of the same water Emmett had in the Mercedes on top of the mini bar.

"We made sure the fridge was stocked," Emmett says behind me. The fridge is next to the mini bar. "You can order room service if you prefer it to candy bars, though."

I fold the sweater around me, tighter. This room is just as cold as the car.

"You guys... you've been great. Thank you. But what do you want from me?" I walk over to Carlisle to make sure he can hear me. He had a hard time understanding me during our last conversation. Then again, he didn't want to understand me. "I left your son, okay? I'm not going back."

"Not hard of hearing, Bella," Carlisle says. Emmett offers his hand as his dad takes a step to the chair, but his dad does a slight shake of his head. After a long drawn out breath, he takes his time shuffling to the chair with his back hunched over. Emmett follows him the entire way. When he gets to the seat, he can't lower himself without Emmett's assistance.

After a few minutes of catching his breath, Carlisle lets Emmett wipe his brow with a small hand towel. It reminds me of an instance when Edward did the same Christmas morning. Carlisle thanked Edward profusely that afternoon as he helped him get around. He was in such good spirits. He just heard the best news from his doctor that day. He was gonna live into the new year after all.

Carlisle is a lot quieter now. His breathing is belabored for another few minutes before calming.

"My dad has something for you," Emmett says. He walks over to me, then reaches behind me on the dresser for the envelope. It has the golden seal on the top left-hand side: the two p's. They're mirrors of each other. I graze my lower lip with my teeth.

"We had an agreement," Carlisle says. "And you've done your part. Now we'd like to give you your reward."

"Reward?" I gulp as Emmett hands me the envelope. It's unsealed, so I lift the flap to find a check inside for one hundred thousand dollars.

It slips from my fingers to the floor.

"I, uh, won't be needing that," I stammer.

"This is tough for you..." I scoff at Emmett when he says that, and he grimaces. "We know what you're going through because my dad went through it, too. He doesn't want you to have to endure what he did."

"And I told him in March that Edward's fine. No, he's better than fine. But how could he believe such a thing? He's never around."

"Quiet." Carlisle steeples his fingers together, leaning his chin across them. "Take the money."

"I won't."

"Bella, if you won't take the check for yourself, take it for Edward," Emmett states. "He'll worry about you otherwise, and we need him to focus over the next few months."

"On what? On this biopic? What makes you so sure he'll go now that... I've left him?"

Carlisle sighs. With a bowed head he replies, saying something I can't understand. This happened often during our last conversation. I cried when he struggled with his words that afternoon. I felt so helpless. This time, I am thankful that Emmett's here to help ease Carlisle of his agitated state. After a couple minutes, he relaxes and is able to speak again.

"No one can stop Edward..." With his elbow, Carlisle pokes Emmett in his side, and he finishes for his father.

"My mom never got a chance to make a film with a major studio. It's my dad's final wish to see Edward on film. He wants him to do everything my mom couldn't. Edward does too, now. And he wants to make Dad happy, Bella, before it's too late. You can't get in his way, okay?"

Just then, someone knocks on the door.

"Be happy. It's what Edward would want for you," Carlisle says, regaining his grasp of words.

After another couple of light raps on the door, Emmett lumbers over. All three of us are greeted by the excited blue eyes of a tiny blond.

It takes a couple seconds for my mind to catch up with my eyes as Jane looks up into Emmett's eyes with the biggest smile on her face.

"What's she _doing _here?" At the cusp of sounding like a banshee, I rein in my voice.

"Good news. Edward wants to know more about the biopic." She gets up on her tiptoes to kiss Emmett on both cheeks. Then, she saunters into the room, her blond ponytail swinging behind her with each graceful step to kiss Carlisle on his cap.

"Hey! You-" I start off saying to Jane, then I glare at Emmett, who bows his head. "Jane was the one who was with Edward?" I grind my teeth. "What's going on?"

She crouches down to stroke Carlisle's cheeks, totally ignoring me.

"Everything will be great, Dad," she coos up to Carlisle. "You'll be on set with him everyday if you wanna be. My father said it's a closed set but let me sneak you in. Of course he can do whatever he wants. He's the director."

"That's what I like to hear," Carlisle's grinning from ear to ear as if she's God incarnate. I am at my wits end all the while. My face is as hot as a boiling pot of peppers.

"Dad?" With a couple of stomps, I stand next to her so she can see me plain as day. I'm fuming but trying not to let it all out because then Emmett and Carlisle would look down on my immaturity and she'd get the upper hand. I might not be with Edward anymore, but I sure as hell didn't want him hanging around her.

"Say something, groupie?"

_Ugh! I hate when she calls me that._

"You can't do this." I curl my hands into fists so hard they hurt. I stare at Emmett who stands behind Carlisle's chair with tense eyes. His shoulders are tense, too, the way his brother's get when he's upset.

"Emmett, you know this..." I glance at Jane. "...is no good."

"It is. We've spent months working on it together. It's happening, Bella."

I don't understand any of this. Why are Emmett and Carlisle chummy with the evil puppetmaster while I'm being shipped off with a pity check? Throwing money at me like I'm a prostitute? What is Edward about to get himself into?

"I'm gonna get Weinstein on the phone on our way to the airport." Jane rubs Carlisle's hands. He gazes at her completely smitten. "We can get Eddie to meet him tomorrow afternoon and on set by Wednesday."

"Good. I want to see my boy be good in this picture, Jane."

"He'll be the best Newman ever. He'll be more Newman than Newman himself."

I'm red in the face throughout their exchange, unable to breathe.

"This is a mistake, Emmett," I say through my teeth. "There'll be other movies Edward can make for Carlisle, other directors who don't have the name 'Volturi'." Jane and Emmett help Carlisle up as I say this. She laughs the entire time, so amused by me. Then, she helps Carlisle to the door while Emmett turns to me with a frown on his thin lips.

"Bella, there won't be any other movies. This is it, okay? Dad needs this."

"Coming Emmett?" Jane asks at the threshold. Carlisle squeezes her hand tight. He looks like the luckiest man in the world after that walk. Jane makes a far better companion than his son.

Emmett turns his head slightly, rubbing his chin on his shoulder. "Let me take care of this first," he murmurs.

"Okay, but don't be too long. Our flight leaves in a couple hours."

Emmett nods as Jane pulls the door closed.

"What the fuck was that about?" I hissed. It was harder to keep calm without Jane here. "Why are you cavorting with that control freak?"

"She's Edward's ex." Emmett pulls out his phone and speaks down to it. " Are you really gonna let your pettiness and jealousy mean more than Dad's happiness? Let it go, Bella. You're not Edward's girlfriend anymore, remember?" He puts his phone away, then looks directly into my eyes. "What you say doesn't matter." When he turns to leave, I stop him, my tiny hand like a child's on his huge sinewy forearm. He cocks his eyebrow until I pull away.

"You can't trust her, Emmett. You know that. She'll hurt Edward again."

Emmett stands still a moment, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. "Jane's the best thing that has ever happened to him. We would never be able to give my dad his dying wish without her." He walks behind me, bends over, and picks up the check and envelope. "Take the money, Bella." He holds my hands and tries to gently place the paper in between them, but I push him away repeatedly. We begin a tug of war.

"I don't want it! I don't want anything from you, alright?"

The crumpled pieces of paper fall to the floor after my exclamation and Emmett folds his arms across his chest.

"You're living in a fantasy if you think you can survive alone in this. You're gonna need all the help you can get. I know what happened the last time Edward left."

"How did you-"

"Edward told us. And he went through a lot of shit, too." Emmett peers down at me. "My dad and I don't want you to suffer through that again, neither of you. We just wanna make sure you're okay. You can do whatever you want with this money. You can go back to school."

"How-" Shocked, I crane my neck up at him. "How did you know about that?"

"Edward and I discussed it a couple months ago. He just needed some advice." Incredulous, I back away. "Don't be ashamed of what happened, either. It's gonna be fine. Just take the money."

Edward told Emmett something as private as me dropping out of Tisch, but he couldn't tell me about this movie or that Jane was involved? Why did he always pull away from me?

"Ugh! Ugh!" But I don't want to talk about this with Emmett because he won't give a fuck. No, something else bothers me. "I don't get it." I crouch down for the check and jab it in Emmett's chest. "You can give me a hundred thousand dollars, but couldn't give Edward ten thousand for his play?"

"That was Edward's decision, not my dad's. Edward wanted to do that on his own. We would've helped if he asked. You know how my brother can be, Bella. And this money's for you, so you can be happy."

He's saying these things about Edward that's spot on. Edward wouldn't let anyone help him with the play. He built the sets himself. He bought the wardrobe. Still, I remembered Emmett's behavior around me the first time we met and last Christmas. He thought I was an afterthought, a rebound girl. He was so dismissive towards me that I had to bend over backwards to impress him. Nonetheless, he refused to accept that Edward really cared for me. This is why this act of kindness seems so random.

Why give me this money? Why do they want to be the good guys to a girl they can't stand?

So, rather than heed Emmett's advice, I rip the check once, twice, thrice, and a fourth time. He crosses his arms over his chest with a grim look darkening his face.

"I won't let you buy me off." I pull the sweater off and throw it at him. He lets it fall to the floor. The Stanford insignia lands face down."You tell Jane she'll never be able to control Edward like she used to. He will never be hers again."

"Don't you get it?" Emmett snorts. He raises his arms in the air. "Look around. Do you see him here? He didn't even follow you out of the penthouse, I did. So think of that when you sit and worry about what Jane's gonna do with him. You need to worry about yourself, Bella. Your life with my brother's over."

Emmett drops his arms and shakes his head with a furrowed brow. Then, with an exasperated huff, he turns around and pulls the door behind him. The minute click holds the deepest irony. I heard doors slammed shut before and this was more akin to those than it seems in this moment. Edward slammed them but always walked through them again. This door... There is such a finality to this click. Edward never opened or closed it. He may never.

Emmett was right. Edward didn't come after me. Something deep down tells me that I will never see Emmett again, Carlisle either. I hold myself, shivering in my damp dress, as I realize with certainty that I'll never see Edward again. The eternal nature of the word cripples me: "never."

It is clear now, why I feel no tingles or fever or emptiness: my heart stopped beating.

I clutch my chest, the _thump-da-thump _hitting my palm in the way that it is supposed to. But there is no fire in my blood. It is a regular beat, one I could not remember having before. I always knew Edward would come back because he needed me as much as I needed him. That's why my heart kept beating. It beat for him. In this moment, however, he's with Jane and his family, people who never wanted me to exist. It's as if I have an implant in me. Foreign heart. Foreign blood. Foreign beat.

Or maybe this was my heart before I found him. I sit on the edge of the bed, getting used to the dull steadiness, unsure of what this means.

My life. I don't have a life, nor do I have a home or anyone to turn to.

I can't leave the Plaza. I have nowhere else to go. I have no money. None of my friends are in New York. Only Edward remained in my circle of friends because I made it so. Besides Jake, I pushed the rest of my friends away. Alice is gone, and she'll never come back. She saved my life once already. It would be cruel to ask her for help after what she went through last the Fall. I'm not close enough to Ben or Jessica to ask them for a favor. Erik hates me now. London is a possibility, but I won't be able to afford the ticket, neither will my mom.

Now, there is no one. There is this strange white bed without Edward in it. I have nothing but my brown eyes.

All of a sudden, I hear a knock on the door.

Not into seeing Jane's mug again, I ignore it. As I pull off my dress, I hear the knock again. I tie the robe around me, disgruntled. The third time I hear the knock, I trudge over to the door.

When I peer through the peephole, a bellhop waits patiently with an envelope in hand.

"What do you want?" I ask after I open the door.

"Miss Swan, Mr. Cullen asked me to give you this." He hands me the envelope, which looks like the one from before with a Plaza logo on the left-hand corner, but I push it back in his hands.

"You can keep it," I say, searching his jacket for a name tag. "Seth. Thanks."

I begin to shut the door when his hand blocks it.

"I'm sorry, Miss. He told me he wouldn't accept no from you." He offers it back, and I snatch it from him.

"Fine!"

I tear it open to find a folded sheet of paper inside. Before I can read it, the bellhop steps away from the door and picks up a suitcase from the floor. It's mine.

"He asked me to give this to you, too." I stare at him as he walks into my room to place the suitcase on the table. It's soaked.

Emmett couldn't have done this. He didn't know where my suitcase was for goodness sakes.

The bellhop walks back to me.

"Do you need anything else, Miss?"

I shake my head slowly, pulling out the letter as Seth walks out. Right before I hear another click, as loud as the evening's thunder, I open the paper.

_Come back._

_- Edward_

The dull heartbeat races, but it's not like it was before when I shared my heart with him. I didn't feel this numb even when the Klonopin hushed the world's stimuli. A screen blocks me from the world, now, and I don't know how to take it down. What if the world's necessary truths will remain hidden?

Last year, Jessica told me several things that I still can't believe, things that should've been obvious. I didn't see them for years, these very necessary truths, because I didn't want to. Now, I can't even ache for Edward if I wanted to. My unwillingness to see has paralyzed me.

I thought I would need another addiction tonight, because I thought the pain would be too great. Edward's sorrow should have destroyed me. Now, I stand in the middle of a room at the Plaza freezing to my bones and little else. No drug is required because the world has become an unnecessary truth.

I had to see it again. Somehow, my brown eyes would see all the truths of the world without Edward.

In the silence, I hear Beethoven. The hopeful first notes of the sixth symphony's first movement is coming from the suitcase.

Unzipping it with shaky fingers, I see my clothes in there. At the top is Edward's gray Beethoven t-shirt.

The sight of it slows the beat in my chest.

"I can't."

The phone lights up the composer's scowl from beneath. Emmett's words are like mist when I pull it out. He was wrong. I was right all along. Edward won't go to Hollywood.

I expect to see Edward's Facebook profile photo. I never took a candid photo of him.

Instead, I see a friend.

Edward chose his necessary truth. It's in Harvey Weinstein's and Mr. Volturi's hands.

After I hit "Accept," and hear that familiar voice, my heartbeat thumps a little faster.

It turns out I have one friend in New York after all.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Here are the lyrics to Jacob's song:**

"**Keys" by Jacob Black**

**Chorus: The keys to your soul**

**They could break my heart in two**

**They're like heaven and tomorrow**

**Your brown eyes are my truth.**

**Holding so much pain and fear,**

**I wish my tears washed away the lies.**

**You're in a cage and only I could hear**

**How scared you are, your cries.**

**Chorus**

**If only you see your eyes like I can.**

**I wish I can show you.**

**I wish I was a smarter man,**

**My songs just won't do.**

**I will write a million**

**And you will never know**

**All of my feelings**

**All of your sorrow.**

**Chorus**

**In my soul, I see**

**Your brown eyes, complete.**

* * *

**I've reached 250 reviews and 200 Favorites. You guys, thank you so much. Along the way, I've had such deep conversations with fascinating women and I don't know what I'd be without them. Each review is tremendous, but 250 is as good as Bella's chocolate cake.**

**Bye :)**


	34. Chapter 31 Panic

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :****(**

**The last chapter, "Growing," marked the beginning of part 3. That was a glimpse of the present.**

"**Panic" go****es**** back to the night of August 14th. Edward had left for L.A. Bella was descending into darkness.**

**This chapter has various symptoms of a panic attack, although not all, and some are not indicative of a panic attack, particularly the fainting. I've purposely decided to blur the lines of Bella's condition and not strictly categorize it. Anxiety ****disorders are quite serious, and I hope I don't offend those who suffer panic attacks in real life.**

* * *

**Chapter 31- ****Panic **

**August 14, 2010**

I heard bangs.

No, they were knocks. Someone was at the door.

_Edward._

With the little energy and consciousness I had left, I crawled into the foyer.

_Edward__'__s coming back for me so that I could go to L.A. with him. He promised he'd never leave. After Liam died, he said he wouldn't live without me and now he__'__s back._

On my knees, I pulled the door open.

"Edward..." The rest of my apology got caught in my throat. "No! No."

It was Alice. She stood silent and bewildered at my doorstep.

"Oh my God! Bella! Bella, what happened?"

When she rushed past me into the living room, she wanted to call maintenance to fix the shattered glass doors. When she saw the blood on the cup, the sofa, and floor, she called 911. I heard her say the word "ambulance," and cried out. Struggling up to my feet, I slapped her phone out of her hand before she could give them the address.

"I'm fine." I clutched my chest as the room began to spin. "I- I'm not bleeding any- anymore."

"Bella, please sit down. You're gonna collapse." She tried to lead me to the couch, but I pushed her hand away. "Bella, Edward must've hit you. You need to see a doctor."

"He-" I remembered his screams at the sound of his name. They sliced through me once more, and I bent over at the middle. I wasn't strong enough to fight her off this time. Alice helped me over to the wall with the painted arch. "He didn't. He didn't hit me."

My thoughts were on a racetrack, racing against time. One would start and get caught off by the next and the next. I couldn't keep up with them just like I couldn't breathe. Through the wild stringent words were blurry memories and in them was so much darkness, so much fire. But I never felt him strike me. Neither did I feel pain. I bled from my mouth, but I didn't know why.

"There's so much blood." Alice covered her mouth, her eyes watering.

"I'm fine now." I wrenched my arms out of hers, glaring at her. "You called Edward and told him about the money, didn't you?" I pulled at my yellow t-shirt, feeling confined by it. My skin felt like a rubber suit. I had to take it off. I had to take it all off.

"I-"

"Don't lie to me, Alice." I was swallowing air like I had just crawled out from a makeshift grave. It met the rocks in my lungs, which grew in size with each breath. "I'm so sick of your fucking-"

"Alright, I did. I called him."

I pushed her feebly, yet she still stumbled back.

_Why couldn__'t she- Fuck, she just had to- I need to be with- I needed Edward- I needed my- I needed- Why was she- Liar- He would never touch her. He would never touch her. _

"You lied about sleeping with him. You didn't even tell me that you spread the... he raped you. Why?"

"Bella..." Her eyes opened wide as she shook her head.

"How dare you come here, calling-" I leaned my head back against the wall unable to catch my breath. "911, trying to fix this mess when you caused it?"

"Bella, I have to take you to the hospital."

"Get out. Get out!"

_I hope you rot- You took him- I made him go- I love him so much- I hate you. I hate my life. I have no- How could Ben-_

"I can't do that either," I heard her say. I couldn't open my eyes anymore. The lights were too bright to open them. "You're in trouble, Bella. If you don't let me help you, who will?"

I tried telling her that she was the last person I needed but my stomach heaved as soon I opened my mouth. I bent over in the middle, convulsing, expelling hot air.

"Please let me help you." She bent down, and I couldn't deny her. I shook in her arms, instead, scratching my arms. I didn't want this skin. I wanted Edward's. I wanted to fly inside of him and wrap myself in his skin.

"Oh God, Bella! Bella, stop!"

I shook so badly, I bit my tongue.

Then, I fell into the darkness once more.

***Panic***

Bleary-eyed, I woke up in a strange bed.

White and salmon-pink walls. Stiff sheets. Endless beeps. Machines. So many machines. My mouth was slimy. The breathing tubes in my nose were abrasive. I pulled them off, finding other tubes on my arms.

"You're okay." Alice's voice was soothing at my side. "You shouldn't take the tubes out. They'll help." When I turned my head to the right, she wore the same clothes. I assumed it was the same day, then. The room didn't have a window.

"Where are we? A hospital?" My voice sounded like sandpaper. I lowered the breathing tubes to my chest.

"Lenox Hill. You've been unconscious for a while."

"What happened to me?"

"You fainted. I think it was a panic attack."

"What?"

"But you'll be fine, okay? You can stay with me until you get better."

"No! No, Alice." I reached for the button to call the nurse but Alice tugged it out of my weak grip.

"Bella, you need help." She lifted a strand of hair from my cheek.

"No. Edward will come back," I rasped. "I need to be at the penthouse. He'll come back for me."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry this is happening to you, but he's not. And you have school coming up. You need to focus on your health and on school. Let Edward help his father out. There's nothing else you can do for him."

"No. No, he's coming. He has to come. He needs me, Alice."

"If he needed you, he would be here." She chewed on her bottom lip as she squeezed my hand. "You can't worry about him anymore, Bella. There's nothing else you can do."

"You can't understand. You'll never understand."

Alice looked like she was about to rebuff me when a nurse with tiny ducks on her shirt walked in.

"You're awake. We're so relieved, Ms. Swan. The doctor will be in shortly."

"Thank you," Alice and I said simultaneously.

I stared at the tubes in my wrists that were connected to the machines. I was connected to steel that told the doctors what I was at every moment as if they could see inside of me. None of them could ever see what was really going on. His rocks were buried deep, weighing me down, reminding me of his paint and his tears and his fury. No, the machines couldn't see those things. Instead, they saw that I was better a few minutes after waking up. A balding doctor with glasses and a mole on his cheek walked in with his steel chart and agreed with their conclusions.

"You can head home, now," Dr. Cope said with this smile on his face. I couldn't see his eyes because the light reflected off his lenses, but the way he spoke made it seem like he was relieved. With his confirmation, Alice went to sign me out while he helped me to the chair near the door. I hated the bed. It wasn't my bed.

"This prescription will help with the attacks." He offered the slip of paper to me, but I didn't reach for it, and it fell to the floor. When he crouched down to pick it up, the light no longer reflected off his glasses, and I bowed my head.

His eyes were like Edward's. They were exactly the same.

He placed the slip of paper on the bed and pat my shoulder as the tears began to flow. The doctor had his eyes but nothing else. The rest existed in my mind.

Alice walked in, relieving the doctor of me and my crying. According to the doctor and the machines, I could go home. I thought about this word as Alice attempted to calm me down: home.

"Oh, Bella. Bella, it's okay. It'll be okay."

I left the prescription on the strange bed.

My head ached and my throat was tight as Alice walked me down the bustling emergency room. Red-faced babies wailed in the arms of their weary mothers. The greenish fluorescent lights made the pallor of the ill look even sicker. So many of them suffered. Some might not leave this emergency room alive, but those who did would get to go home.

I didn't have a home. My home was on the freckles on his skin, the near-raucous sound of his laugh when I told him a joke, the sea, the pools, the steel, gold, love, glimmer, Truth, and sorrow in his eyes.

We were at the emergency room entrance when I dropped back against the wall. I was sweating from my scalp to my heels. The rocks in my lungs had become boulders that stretched the tissue until they would rip open. My quiet tears became a piercing wail.

"I need him. Alice, I need him."

"Bella." Alice held me in her arms, stroking my hair in the heat. My skin was too hot. It had to come off. "Shh. It'll be okay. I'll help you and with time, things will be easier. I promise."

Alice hailed a cab after I had no more energy to cry. I begged her to take me to the penthouse, but she refused. We were a couple of blocks away from her apartment when I thought of the next place where there would be remnants of him.

"Crown Heights," I told the cab driver.

She agreed but demanded she stay the night.

"Were you ever gonna give me the money?" I asked after twenty minutes of silence. We were crossing the Manhattan Bridge. I leaned my head against the cool glass, looking down into the dark river. It was as ominous as it was comforting.

"I have the check right here."

I turned to Alice and saw in her hands a check to Ben Cheney in the amount of ten thousand dollars.

"So why did you call him? You knew he would blow up," I murmured.

"And you just accept that? Bella, you said he didn't hurt you so you don't know. You don't know what he's capable of."

"I do." I turned back to the window, letting the glass cool my feverish skin. "He told me he beat you. And I don't understand why you wanted to help him after he did that to you."

"It's... complicated."

"As is everything these days," I grumbled.

When I saw the green and white Flatbush Ave. street sign, I shut my eyes. Brooklyn was so dirty. It was crowded and small and made of waste. I had to get out of here. I had to go back to the penthouse.

"He will come back," I said, facing Alice.

"What if he doesn't? You can't keep living your life for him. You have to take care of yourself."

"I am taking care of myself. Going back to the penthouse is exactly what I need."

"Bella, please. You have to let him go."

"No." I wiped my brow of sweat. "Never."

"He'll hurt you as badly as he hurt me. Hell, he's already hurt you."

"No, he didn't Alice. I told you he didn't hit me."

She traced invisible lines on the window pane. "He hurt you in so many more ways than that, Bella. You just can't see it yet. And he'll keep doing it because guys like that never know when to stop. One of these days, you won't be able to recognize yourself. I got this nose to prove it," she murmured.

I stared at her straight, perfectly-proportioned nose and wondered what the big deal was. It was fine.

"Your nose is great. Anyway, he'll never do anything like that to me. He hurt you because of what you did to Jasper and you lied about the rape. For fuck's sake, Alice, you ruined his life." She stopped drawing the intricate lines with her finger and dropped her hand onto her lap.

"Oh, so that makes it alright?" Her voice rose to a strained disbelief.

"No, of course not," I replied witheringly. "But everything you've done makes it seem like _you _think it is."

"What?"

"I've never met a person who'd wanna give ten thousand dollars to someone who hurt them as badly as Edward hurt you. Are things really that complicated or are you lying to me about something else?"

"Bella, I was a stupid little girl and I regret everything I did. I was just trying to make things right again between him and me with this money. That's all."

"Oh. So, not complicated at all." I huffed. "What drove you to lie about the rape in the first place? That was a shitty thing to do."

"Oh, and you didn't do a shitty thing? You didn't lie? Besides, who cares about what I did to _po' wittle Edward Cuwwen_ seven years ago?" She took a deep breath and dropped her mocking tone. "You shouldn't accept his shit just because you did something wrong. He was wrong to leave you like that. You deserve better."

I didn't respond, knowing she was wrong. I deserved the pain and the desertion.

Arriving at the reddish brick building I had resided in for three years, I realized how my broken promise caused his. I changed and he left. I should've stayed the same, just like my building's hallway, which still smelled like stale urine. Alice was the one who told me not to tell Edward the truth. She made me think he couldn't handle it but what he couldn't handle was the lying, not his dad's condition. I should've listened to Ben and told Edward everything instead of trying to control everything. The why girl wouldn't have done this.

I shouldn't have changed. If I hadn't broken my promise, he wouldn't have been so angry. He wouldn't have hurt me.

Inside my apartment was a stuffy wasteland. I went into the kitchen, searching the cabinets and fridge. There had to be pieces of him left here. He remained between these walls somewhere, more than the walls of my mind.

"Are you hungry? I can make you something if you are?" Alice asked as I made my way out of the kitchen.

"No, I'm fine."

She followed me into the bathroom and stood at the threshold with her arms crossed. I yanked the shower curtain to the side, then rummaged through my medicine cabinet.

"What are you looking for?"

I slammed the cabinet door shut and slid past her for my sterile living room. I rubbed my cheeks. The only place left to look was my bedroom.

"I'm not looking for anything. Just... leave, alright?"

When I turned on the lights, a bare mattress stared back. Some of my drawers had been left open, but there was nothing inside them.

"I can't. You really shouldn't be alone right now, Bella."

"I'm not gonna jump out of the window, Alice." I walked over to my closet. It had musty blankets from my mom. That was it. "Go live your life. You've really done more than enough."

"I'm staying the night and that's final. Now let me know what you're looking for so that I can help."

"No!" I exclaimed. I turned around to stare her down. "I want you to leave."

She twiddled her thumbs with a deep blush. "I won't. You should get some sleep and let me take care of the rest."

"Alice..."

"It's four in the morning. I'm not heading back into the city right now. We'll fight tomorrow, I promise. Go to sleep."

I frowned as she turned and walked out. "I'll be right in the living room if you need anything, okay?" she called out. "Sweet dreams, Bella."

I didn't want to spend another moment arguing with her when I had to find remnants of him.

"Alright, fine. Night." I shut the door.

There were photos of me and my mom back in Phoenix up on the walls. All of this history that made me who I was no longer defined me. I was made of different fibers, now, and they were quaking for a piece of him. The cocoa powder for his cakes. His Irish Spring. A dirty sock from his early morning runs.

The last morning we were here, he had a nightmare that shook him up so badly, he went out for a run. Despite his frazzled state, he didn't leave any socks or shirts behind.

I grabbed the pile of blankets, hoping his mind wouldn't be wrought with those nightmares again. Resting my cheek on the blankets, I remembered how he was the morning after in the penthouse. He was a new man. This was how I would remember him until he came back to me.

I couldn't quiet my brain of Alice's words, though. She was right. I _was _a liar. I did something terrible. What was I to say to him if he did return? "Sorry?" He deserved better. Returning to the penthouse was a foolish notion. I didn't deserve Edward. I deserved Brooklyn.

When I woke up the next night, my room was cool with air conditioning. Lavender scented candles were on both nightstands. My dresser drawers were pushed shut. When I opened them, they were stacked with new underwear, t-shirts, shorts, and jeans. I even saw a couple pairs of sneakers and strappy sandals in my closet.

How could she do this? From the first day we met, she'd been über nice to me and for what? All I did was call her every rotten thing in the book.

The apartment was empty and quiet, save for the sound of an argument some drunk was having with another drunk outside, music blaring across the street, and intermittent police sirens. Those quickly became white noise, a backdrop to the cacophony in my mind.

The most brutal words pricked my brain like millions of tiny needles until I felt like they would seep out of my skin.

"_You thought you were protecting me? My father could die tomorrow, Bella."_

Finding pillows, a new sheet set and down comforter on the shelf in my closet, I prepped my bed as best I could without collapsing from Edward's screams. They were a constant whir in my head as I opened the door to Alice. She had a bag of groceries in both of her hands. I led her to my kitchen, which smelled of lemon Pine Sol.

"Thank you for everything, Alice." I whispered, watching her as she stocked my fridge. She shrugged me off.

"Here're your keys." She dropped them on the kitchen counter. "If you need anything, please call me." She transferred a white Iphone in her hand to mine. "It's your same number and it's under my account so you don't have to worry about the bill. Call anytime, okay?"

"Alice, why are you doing all this?" I rubbed my right temple where the pinches were more acute.

"This? What?"

"You just bought out American Eagle Outfitters and Whole Foods. I don't deserve this."

"Bella, it's nothing. You helped me last semester with my final paper, remember? This is the least I could do."

"This doesn't equal the measly afternoon I spent on your paper."

"Oh, it does. My mom would've had my ass if I failed Evans's class."

She patted both of my shoulders. Then, she hugged me, promising to check on me everyday until school started. But the moment I turned the five locks of the front door, I opened it again only twice in the next week, and it was never for Alice.

* * *

**A/N: **

**I want to dedicate this chapter to my reviewers. You ladies mean so much to me. I thank you for your time and insight. Your questions make me work harder to make this as great as it could be. **

**To each reader, I'm shocked that you guys are reading this fic every week. Truly, I am so thankful for your interest in this. And while each view means a lot, I am especially humbled by those who read from other nations. United Arab Emirates. Chile. Germany. New Zealand. All of these countries where I doubt I'll ever see in my lifetime. I'll never see these people who speak a completely different language yet read these words that are so precious to me. There are so many writers out there whose version of English far surpasses my own. I am grateful you spend your time in my corner of the ffnet world.**

**Bye :)**


	35. Chapter 32 Benadryl

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :(**

**kellyprovence you're like the Merlin of prereaders. Alchemy, my dears. She does it each chapter. Thank you so much!**

* * *

**Chapter 3****2****- ****Benadryl**

**August 26, 2010**

**...**

"_You thought you were protecting me? My father could die tomorrow, Bella."_

...

"_I have of late—but wherefore I know not—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises"_

...

"_Why can't you see it? She wants something from you like she wanted it from Jasper. And she will destroy you." _

...

"_What is this quintessence of dust?"_

...

"_No, it's another lie. Why should I believe you?"_

...

"_Man delights not me—no, nor woman neither"_

...

"_I wish I killed her, Bella."_

...

"_To die, to sleep; __To sleep: perchance to dream"_

...

"_You don't need to worry about Bella. I won't." _

...

"_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come"_

...

"_Maybe I never knew you. Bella Swan, you're a stranger. I never saw you. I never loved you."_

Edward's voice pounded my skull every night like a jackhammer, relentlessly crushing my brain into pulp. It echoed for hours into the following night until it was replaced by the voice in the next dream.

Every night, my dreams were different but the same. Dozens of memories were generated then distorted by the most painful words, each leaving only an impression of that day. Snippets of a dirty joke or the hue of his eyes when he woke up in the morning, or the moans he would make when eating my cake, all played and replayed there. In my dreams, his absence didn't haunt me. Edward still loved me. When I woke up, his hatred consumed me.

I choked through my tears in a cold sweat, searching blindly for my phone to hear his real voice. He wouldn't be so furious anymore in reality. I was certain of it.

Without exception, the call went straight to voicemail. For eleven nights, I heard his recorded message:

"This is Edward Cullen. Please leave a message after the beep, especially if you have lots and lots of money."

Then, the fury pierced my brain like a million needles. Sharp sound either became a whisper or a roar depending on the time of day. At night, it was a roar.

_I wish I killed her, Bella. I wish I killed her, Bella. I wish I killed her, Bella. I wish I killed her, Bella. I wish I killed her, Bella._

On Sunday, I heard him ponder about death all day. "To die, to sleep; to sleep: perchance to dream." My heart fell out of my chest at the sound and repetition of those words, "to die." He wouldn't suffer Hamlet's fate. I would save him.

Stumbling out of bed that morning, I yanked on my jeans and t-shirt, imagining his face grow at ease when I arrived at the penthouse_. _

_I would save him._

But his voice became louder than my thoughts, and by the time I unlocked the first of the five locks, the futility of my mission slammed into me.

He wasn't at the penthouse. He wasn't on this side of the country. I was in my mom's apartment again. I didn't live in the penthouse anymore.

Returning to my empty bed, his voice drilled deep into my bones, but my dream became a faint thud. This spiked the fever and the emptiness expanded as wide as the Grand Canyon. I lay awake the rest of the night grappling for bits and pieces of our life together.

I wished to live in my dreams. His love shone so bright it healed me. I just needed to sleep for more than a couple of hours so that I could bask in him. I needed to stop the voice.

I went to the pharmacy for some Benadryl yesterday, his faint whisper wafting around me like smoke.

"_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come..."_

Looking over my shoulder for him, I could swear he was right behind me. His baritone echoed even though I didn't see his lips move. I didn't hear a footfall. I didn't hear him breathing. He didn't have a scent, but he was there.

"_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come..."_

"_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come..."_

It rumbled all around and deep inside me, splitting me into two. I swallowed the two rose pills as soon as I got back to the apartment, hoping for a dream. I would dream of his rough palms on my eager skin. He would tell me he was the happiest he had ever been in his life because of me.

But I woke up two hours later suffocated by darkness. I recalled nothing. Instead, his cold tone battered my bruised brain matter and turned the Grand Canyon into The Black Hole.

"_Maybe I never knew you. Bella Swan, you're a stranger. I never saw you. I never loved you." _

This morning, I had a full pot of coffee to shake me of the stupor the Benadryl left me in. I shrugged on a t-shirt and pulled on some shorts. I must've slipped on my sneakers right before I opened my front door and headed to the subway station. I guess I did. The ground didn't hurt my heels when I walked. I must have put on my sneakers. My classmates wouldn't think I was a total hobo, because I wasn't walking through the hallway barefoot.

"_Maybe I never knew you. Bella Swan, you're a stranger. I never saw you. I never loved you." _

I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. This was a far better solution to the Sonata's second movement. At the top of my screen were a couple of notifications for voice messages. They were days old and both from my mom. The first time she called, I heard the first couple of bars from Beethoven's happy-go-lucky movement and dry heaved for five minutes.

I stood on the third step from the bottom to keep the signal, then tapped through to the new text message.

_Alice__: Dont have __2__ much fun w Evans. Big plans for us this afternoon. Save ur energ__y_

_12:15 p.m._

Yippee.

I closed the text message app and opened the Facebook one. Not one status update from Edward on my newsfeed. I groaned, clicking on Emmett's page, then Ben's, worried about Carlisle's condition.

_What if..._

But Emmett hadn't existed since July 4th and Ben posted a bunch of pics of the set props he and Edward built, including a blood-red dining table.

I remembered Edward's white t-shirt and jeans, splattered with the red paint. The smell of the paint rushed back to me as if he were here. The scent of my chocolate cake on his lips... My blood smeared on the glass... His rainbow fingers on my throat...

"_Maybe I never knew you. Bella Swan, you're a stranger. I never saw you. I never loved you." _

The phone vibrated in my hands again, rattling my brain out of the memory. I wiped a tear off my cheek, shaking my arms at my side. Taking a deep breath, Edward's voice stung until I navigated to the new text message.

_Alice__: If ur alive text me the name of __the __POTUS_

_12:20 p.m._

_Me__: Obama_

_12:20 p.m._

I shoved the phone in my pocket and arrived at the final step when I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh.

_Alice__: Ur alive! Remember u love school. __Its __a good distraction. Itll make things easier. In time things will __b__e easier._

_12__:__21 p.m._

She said the same thing to me a couple of weeks ago, before Edward's fury twisted my insides every second of my every waking moment.

_Things will __be __easier._

But the night after Edward left was just as bad as this day and it would continue to be bad until he appeared in my dreams, he returned, or I died.

***Benadryl***

The journey from Crown Heights to Tisch was more abysmal than I remembered. I trudged through the old neighborhood, the buildings and children all so blurry to me. The trains were more crowded. Everyone was in a foul mood, profanity-laced conversations about the stupidest shit filled the train car. The stations were cramped turgid noisy hell holes.

As I climbed the steps up the 8th St. station, I deleted Alice's messages.

When I got to the old stomping grounds, I spotted Professor Evans in a white button-down and dark blue jeans on the first floor talking to a student. This was his "dress-down for the first day of class" look he wore last semester. He was laughing with a tall blond who could've been a freshman. He laughed too hard, in fact. She must've been Jessica's replacement this year. With my head down, I tried to walk passed him, but he noticed me.

"Bella?"

He pulled me aside, looked at me up and down with a shred of pity but said nothing. Instead, he chastised me.

"You embarrassed me. Do you know how hard it is to run that internship program with Esme?"

"I'm sorry-" I really was. Sort of. Maybe I was.

"That's not good enough. You've made it very difficult for those this year to have the same opportunity you did."

"I'll make it up to you. I promise." _Please refuse._

"No, I think you've done enough," he said. "Esme has a three-strike rule. I have one. You'll have to seek recommendations elsewhere."

"_Maybe I never knew you. Bella Swan, you're a stranger. I never saw you. I never loved you." _

The words stung my right temple so sharply, I rubbed it with a low hiss. Evans raised both eyebrows.

"Are you alright?"

I frowned. His pity was condescending.

"I'm fine."

I walked into the classroom as he flagged down another student. I hoped to never be that close to him again, choosing a seat in the back. The front of the classroom was reserved for the girl from last semester who wanted to suck up and get ahead. I would never be that girl again. I wanted one thing right now: sleep.

The honors seminar was made of ten students. Everyone got an email this morning with the semester's assignment:

_S__ubmit a topic for the term project on the __historical and current notions of normalcy and non-normalcy as they influence and determine what is or is not visible—what is or is not embodied in theatrical representations,__ with special attention to Euripides, Shakespeare, and Jonson._

"Everyone" was seven dudes and three girls, except only nine of us were present. And guess who was the odd woman out when Evans asked us to pair up for the term project?

"Because of her lateness, I'll come by at the end of class to listen to your ideas," Evans said after five minutes passed, and he shut the door.

"I can come up with a topic on my own by the end of today's class." I hadn't read any of the texts on the summer reading list. How I'd be able to do anything when I was so behind was beyond me. "I really don't need a partner."

"You do. And if both of you don't come to class prepared next week, you'll both fail."

I narrowed my eyes. _You'd love that, wouldn't you? _I looked through my email for the reading list after he called us to begin our group work, still awaiting my future partner. I hoped she didn't show up at all. It wasn't as if she needed this class.

_Act Like a Man: Challenging Masculinities in American Drama? Gender Outlaw: On Men, Women, and the Rest of Us? Medea? _Riveting stuff. Gender identity had nothing to do with what I planned for my thesis next semester, which was to further explore _Hamlet _in its depiction of love and madness. Shakespeare was an obvious choice after Ms. Evanson's praise for my paper. If the editor of a major publication like TNY liked it, then I needed to stick with the play. What I didn't need was to read this stupid shit about non-normalcy, invisible ideologies, or practices or genders.

After an hour of gawking at the list and googling summaries online, I checked my Facebook feed again. The mobile web page was loading when the door swung open. My glowing partner sauntered in. Even from the back of the room, I could smell her perfume. Overtones of success. Undertones of pompousness. Her butterscotch silk dress lent her an ephemeral quality. Apparently, Europe agreed with her.

"Jessica," Evans said at the door. He handed her the syllabus. "You're grouping up with Bella for the semester." Evans pointed her towards me. I slumped down in my seat, picking up the book-bag Alice bought me.

When she sat down, she pulled out a black Iphone and tapped the screen with the speed of light. I didn't bother telling her we needed to hand Evans a page-long summary of our presentation by the next class. We only had ten minutes left, and she never glanced at the syllabus or asked to be filled in. Then again, why should she? She didn't need this class. It was a wonder why she came in at all. She had the New Yorker in the palm of her hands.

She tucked her chin into her chest and remained on her Iphone for the next few minutes. The only time she moved was to scoot her chair away from mine. I dipped my nose into my t-shirt. I smelled like onions and old ham.

When Evans got around to asking us for our ideas, Jessica boldly told him that she wasn't doing the assignment because it had nothing to do with her thesis.

"I've been doing research on Feminism in Middle Eastern American Theater. I'd like to continue to focus on that."

"You'll have next semester to resume your research, Jessica," Evans said dismissively, crossing his ankles. He patted his thigh with a stack of extra syllabi. "You know that."

Her smile was tight, and I wondered if she was as unprepared as I was. Before I could sit back and watch her fumble through an excuse, she said,

"Bella will tell you."

I shut my eyes, resisting the urge to slap her with her IPhone.

"Bella?" I heard Evans say. When I opened my eyes, I came up with something I didn't even think I understood.

"The relationship between normative and non-normative gender roles in Hamlet."

Jessica rolled her eyes, pulling her black leather purse on the desk. It looked brand new, the golden double c's in the middle twinkling.

"Looks like your partner doesn't like that idea of yours, Bella," Evans said standing on his two feet again. "Was this not a joint decision?"

"It was," Jessica answered for me. "I'm so excited." She sounded like she was talking about dusting her furniture.

"Good. I look forward to your summary next week." Evans went up to the front of the classroom to answer more questions

This was what Alice purported to be "fun"? Getting fired at TNY was more enjoyable.

Why did I listen to her anyway? I had to stop.

The bell rang, and Jessica stopped me before I got up to leave.

"Hey, Bella. Do you have a second?"

I nodded, preparing for an onslaught of gloating. Instead, she said the absolute best thing.

"I know Evans wants us to work together but, I'd rather prepare for this presentation independently."

"Sure."

"Great. We'll come to an agreement right before class each week. Deal?"

I nodded.

She tossed her shiny wavy locks over her shoulder, and left.

This was a good sign. I was wholly expecting her "besties" talk with me, but there wasn't even a trace of the Jessica I knew over the last three years. There was a fleeting thought about why she threw her saccharine-coated mask out and showed her true colors as a senior, but it was just that, a fleeting thought. I didn't care about Jessica's why's, and I never would.

I hoped for more good signs as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket again. There were two text messages. The first was a reminder that I wasn't worthy of more good news.

_Jake__: don't h8 me. So so so so so so so so so sorry bout this. the tour's been extended and i wont be in nyc til nov. so sorry bells. we can celebrate your bday when i getthere. dont h8me_

_3:03 p.m._

_Me__: I could never. See you in November._

_3:05 p.m._

I hated his fucking schedule. I hated his goddamn music. I hated his shitty record label, and I wished they'd burn in the fires of Hades for all eternity. But this _would _happen to me. The punishment came before the atonement, and before the reconciliation.

Jake was a poor substitute.

They were all poor substitutes.

Of course the next text was from Alice:

_Alice__: __Hey, I__ just had to pick something up at Dean & Deluca. c u in 5_

_3:03 p.m._

I turned off my phone and went out the back way. Walking over to Bleecker St. was a long walk, and I hated taking the local train, but there was no way I would bump into Alice this way. I considered taking this way home again next week. We only met on Thursdays this year and I didn't have any other classes to take up my time. Just research, which I could do at home... if I ever got to it.

My apartment in Crown Heights wasn't home, though. The penthouse wasn't home, either, not anymore. My home was in the depths of my subconscious until he returned from L.A..

The apartment stunk. I didn't understand why until I remembered all the food Alice bought me last week. The rotting food was in my fridge and on my counter. I pondered cleaning up before my creepy crawly friends came and had a party in my kitchen, but all the walking today made me drowsier than expected. After taking a warm shower and three pink pills, I climbed into my sheets. They smelled like onions, too. It didn't bother me, though, because unlike last night, it didn't take half an hour to delve into my dreams.

As soon as I shut my eyes to search for Edward, I found him. I was home.

_I could taste him._

_Chocolate and cigarettes. Sweet kisse__s__ lasting one minute... five minutes... five hours. His tongue was a live wire. My __tongue__ was overcharged._

_I needed more. Inside. The storm wouldn't stop us. The butterflies had eased, finally. __The train doors closed at my back. Once he pressed his lips against mine to kiss me, I would __never be able to stop kissing him back._

_I was complete again. I yearned for his sorrow. If it resided in me, it wouldn't torment him any longer. I could handle it if he gave it to me. _

_"I will never wake up in the morning and want to see another set of eyes."_

_H__e__ filled my mouth, lengthening, hardening. I licked every vein, one by one, until he called my name. _

His voice rumbled like a brewing thunderstorm. Last night, I heard him tell me he never loved me. Now, he never wanted to wake up without seeing me.

My sheets were down at the foot of the bed. I must've kicked them off during the intense dream. It was stifling in my room. The final heat wave of the summer took New York City by the balls and beat down the power of my AC. I had put it on several hours ago, but it didn't work at all to keep my bedroom cool.

I could taste him. His voice pulsed in my head, those words making me pant for more.

I peeled off my t-shirt. My nipples looked like tiny gum drops for chrissakes. My lips were numb, as if he had just kissed me. Tapping them, I rolled over onto my side. I pressed my thighs together, forcing myself not to remember how sweet and bitter he used to taste at the same time. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

I squeezed my eyes shut wondering what it would take for me to sleep through the night. The Benadryl wasn't strong enough. Nonetheless, the torture was coming. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. The memory of him in my mouth was already fading. The feel of his kiss was just out of reach. His screams would turn the treasures of our past into lead.

_Touch yourself, Bella. _I heard him command all of a sudden. It was so real. It didn't sting like needles. It had his deep smooth baritone. It was clearer than his voice in the voicemail. It was here. His green pools were inches away. I could swear if I reached behind me, I would feel his hairy forearms.

For the first eleven nights, I expected my fingers to sink into his warm skin. For the twelfth, I hit cool sheets.

_I can't be going crazy. I can't. _

"Be with me," I moaned, not wanting to but playing with my nipples. I needed more. With a shaky breath, I peeled off my panties. It left a wet sticky trail down my inner thighs.

A dull ache between my legs replaced the cold sweats. As if it were a reflex, I arched my back. I remembered what he did with my chocolate frosting the day I met Ben as my finger circled my round, soaking wet clit.

_He __lifted __me up onto the counter with his lips in my neck, then my collarbone, then the tops of my breasts. _

"_What- what do you plan on... d-doing with my frosting?" I already kn__ew what he was gonna do. I knew him inside out, which __was __why I played naive. He liked it when I guess__ed __his next move._

"_You'll see. Don't be so impatient."_

_He unbuttoned my jean shorts, pulling them down to the lacquered floor. __Then, he__ parted my legs to stand between them. __Going __for my panties next__, __I had to stop him. My menstrual cycle ruined all the fun for tonight. W__hen I guided his hands away from my panties__, __he groaned__._

"_Bella-"_

"_These stay on tonight."_

_He grumbled but relented. Then, he said, "Pass me the bowl, will you?" I had it behind me. _

"_Not until you tell me what you're planning." I cocked my eyebrow, which he kissed away. _

"_It'll be a good surprise. The worst surprises are over, remember?"_

_He kissed me gently, swiping the bowl from behind me. I didn't __fight__ it. __The__ saran wrap met its match as he tore it off the bowl__, __balled it up in his left hand, __and threw __it into the sink._

_After he dipped his forefinger into the mix, he rose it up to my lips. Slowly, he __spread__ it along my bottom lip. Then, with this sly grin, he sucked __my lip__ from one corner to the other. I tilted my head to the right as this turned into a long kiss. If only I could make frosting that tasted like __him__._

_He unbuttoned my blouse__so slowly I wanted to take it off for him. __It__ joined my shorts on the floor. My bra followed them dutifully._

_Then, came the __"__surprise.__"_

"_You know how much I love chocolate." He said this against my lips before __standing up straight__. As soon as a do__llop landed in my belly button, he followed it. The way his tongue lapped it up made me silently curse my uterus. _

"_Edward." I moaned. I was on the verge of taking my panties off when he kissed my skin and backed away._

"_You taste so much better," he whispered._

_With three of his fingers __wrapped__ in frosting, he spread the__ chocolate__ over my breasts. I took a sharp breath, my stomach so tight, tighter than my grip on the marble. He hummed as h__is hot tongue wound around my nipple. Mewling, I watched him suck the melted frosting dripping onto my right rib. _

I called his name, digging my heels into my mattress. I was headed to a climax but the intensity was only half of what it used to be when he was here.

_He had the goofiest grin on his face as he came up to kiss my cheek. _

"_You sound like a kitten," he said into my ear. "I like it. I wanna hear it again."_

_His knuckles__ stroked the crotch of my thin panties, and I nearly slid off the counter with a __squeak__. He chuckled as he repositioned me. His eyes danc__ed__._

"_That's not the same sound." He sucked his forefinger, then let me clean the rest off of him. I opened my mouth wide, taking both his forefinger and middle finger in. I pulled and pushed his hand to me, enjoying his sounds and the flutter of his eyelids. _

"_Delicious." I kissed the palm of his ha__n__d, pleased by his unfocused gaze._

"_You'll taste so good with this...__" he said absently. "__When?"_

"_Saturday," I murmured before he kissed me again._

_As he lowered his face to my breasts, I dropped my head back against the cabinet. His tongue was wild __over my cleavage__, his moans as fervent as my own. I was so hot, the frosting melted, looking like__ dark__ fudge __on my pink skin. Then, he bit into my nipple. _

"_Fuck..." I tugged his hair __when he came up for an__o__ther kiss. Then, he__ swirled his fingers around in the bowl, coating them in__ more frosting._

_I couldn't wait until Saturday._

I thrust my hips into the air as if he were my hand. I almost believed it as I came. Seconds passed where I thought of his lips and fingers and love. Sinking back onto my mattress, my muscles uncoiling, I took a breath.

The dull ache intensified into an unbearable thump. But there was no use quelling it. It was just a hand.

I felt like I had a bass drum between my legs. It kept me up all night, but I welcomed it to Edward's screams puncturing my thoughts. As the sun rose, I heard a trace of his voice from my dream. And as my room brightened, it filled me with hope.

_"I will never wake up in the morning and want to see another set of eyes." _

**A/N: **

**I don't like to single out my readers because every one of you is so precious to me. But this week, I must extend thanks to two very special women.**

**Thank you, Edmazing for nominating me for The Lemonade Stand's Fic of the Week. What a humbling experience. I don't deserve to be standing next to the others, but it's nice that you and the ones who voted this week think so.**

**Thank you Guiltypleasure30plus for recommending me. The nom wouldn't have been possible without you.**

**All of you, truly, are the best. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.**

**Bye. :)**


	36. Chapter 33 Abracadabra

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3****3****- ****Abracadabra**

**September 13, 2010**

_I could taste him. In the mornings, he __was__ so sweet on my tongue and at night, so salty and sweaty._

_Impenetrable, his eyes were cold stones right before he bent me over the table. Glass shards everywhere. Darkness._

_Beauty in the water. There was so much light and fluidity. He was open for me. No one would snuff him out._

_Golden flecks in my kryptonite watching my every move. I was dazed by his attention. His pleas rendered me speechless, all in a British accent._

"_You can't change. You must stay with me." _

_I was close. His __fingers were like water and fire__. __We were__ close but not close enough._

After weeks of sweet iterations filtering in and out of my daily activities, this morning, I woke up soaked in sweat, my hands already down my panties. I ached from the incessant thumping and was on the brink of coming.

_You're so __wet__. _I heard him moan this time. _Make it last_

I was shocked of his command the first time, afraid of its implications. I had to go to the emergency room the night he left because of my panic attack. What if that was the tip of the iceberg? What if I were really going insane?

I hadn't stayed awake or lucid long enough to either answer that question or ponder others. A full packet of Benadryl left me pleasantly sluggish. They didn't help me sleep, though. I had woken up three times last night. I was at the precipice when I opened my eyes. His eyes were so close but disappeared when I inhaled my surroundings and exhaled my dreams.

Now, I could taste his lips as his command penetrated each eager pore. With every breath, I smelled his lust. His tongue was all over me. He was inside of me. His love flooded my brain, and I found myself unable to follow this command. I came with a quiet shudder and a sharp curse, shame rolling through me.

Falling to the floor, I stared at the rumpled sheets and comforter on my floor. Neither belonged here. The t-shirt brushing against my pebble-like nipples wasn't mine. I yanked it off, throwing it across the room.

_God, he would hate me for lying on these sheets. Alice's sheets._

But every single one of my drawers were filled with clothes from her. I didn't know where I'd be if she hadn't shown up at the penthouse.

_Is where I am right now__better than if she hadn__'t__?_

I showered, knowing the answer and ignoring the way my clit felt like the Energizer bunny beat its mallet against it.

"_You can't change. You must stay with me." _

I finished washing my hair, about to get on my knees and pray to an unknown god to kill the bunny.

"_You can't change. You must stay with me." _

I brushed my teeth, confident in the potency of the remaining Benadryl.

"_You can't change. You must stay with me." _

_Yes, this __i__s better than if she never __came__. I ha__ve __my dreams and memories and his voice. _

Grabbing my coffee mug off my nightstand, I headed to the kitchen for a refill. I propped my elbows on the counter next to the sink, letting the water run for a bit before filling my cup with tap water. Then, I grabbed the aluminum packet of gel caps off the top of my refrigerator.

"No! No! No, goddammit! No!"

I hurled the packet across the room, but it coasted slower than a full pack would have because it was empty. I smashed the mug on the floor, wanting to smash more, wanting to scream but hearing Edward's sweet words silenced me.

"_You can't change. You must stay with me."_

Watching the water roll into the cracks between the linoleum tiles, I dropped to my knees. I didn't understand it. How could hydrogen and oxygen bond to form the water spreading across my kitchen floor? How could gravity still exist? How did the laws of physics still operate when I felt like every cell in my body was a split second away from going poof?

"I'll keep my promise," I uttered to the floor. My eyes burned and the cup's red ceramic shards doubled and blurred before my cheeks became wet. "I will be like I was. For you, Edward. I'll be the girl who never lied to you."

The only way I could be that girl was in my dreams.

I stopped calling him yesterday. I still checked Facebook everyday just to find out if Carlisle had passed on, but no one said a thing. I didn't have a right to know, though. I wanted so badly to fly out to L.A. to see him. I didn't know where I'd get the money. Alice was a non-option. I was close to begging my mom for it but cut my ambition short.

_I couldn't see him, yet. I wasn't ready for him. He deserved a woman who was just as good as he was. And right now, I __had to be punished._

So today, I swept up the glass, then put on _my_ clothes: the white shorts and yellow t-shirt I wore the last day my home was home.

The blood didn't stain the collar because Alice washed it off. I pulled it tight into a knot at my waist because it didn't skim down my side like it did last month. It hung loose, almost as loose as Edward's t-shirts. When I pulled on my shorts, I noticed it hung low on my hips. Digging through my drawer full of Alice's clothes, I begrudgingly grabbed one of her belts and left.

The cool early morning air felt nice on my bare legs. The smile on the face of the Arabic man behind the counter was reassuring as he handed me my deliverance. Shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight, I opened the front door of my apartment building, catching my overstuffed mailbox in my periphery.

When I unlocked the box, dozens of envelopes spilled out. I found stuff from July. I had forgotten to forward my mail to the penthouse. I bent over to pick up what was mostly junk and old bills, but there was an envelope from my mom. It was probably money. She always gave me money, just like my dad always gave me a gift card for the Home Depot. I glossed over her envelope, engaged by the two pieces of sticky paper from UPS.

Both notes stated there was an attempted delivery on Friday. UPS would be back this morning between 9 a.m. and 11 a.m. I snatched the notices and shuffled over to the stairs.

Twenty one. What a crock. I was legally an adult. The law expected me to be able to buy a home, rent a car, buy a beer, and start thinking about which insurance policies would cover each treasured item in my list of assets. This was adulthood according to the law, and I wanted no part of it. But when I got upstairs to check my Facebook newsfeed, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't avoid my passage into the dark ages.

I didn't have too many birthday congratulations, but it was enough to make me wanna log off.

**Brandon Inc. **

Come to Cipriani's to celebrate Bella's Swan's new status. She's legal y'all!

10 hours ago · Unlike · Comment

You and 105 people like this.

**Erik Yorkie**

Lucky beeyotch! LOL j/k Happy Birthday, Bella!

10 hours ago · Unlike · 90 people

**Lauren Mallory**

Happy Birthday, Bella!

10 hours ago · Unlike · 100 people

**Tyler Crowley**

Alice throws the BEST birthday parties! You'll never forget this!

10 hours ago · Unlike · 4 people

**Bella Swan**

Oh boy.

5 minutes ago · Like

While Alice's party tonight didn't sound as inviting as Tyler made it sound, Jacob's wall post made my heart sink.

**Jacob Black**

Happy Birthday Bells

5 minutes ago · Unlike · Comment

You like this.

**Bella Swan**

Thanks Jake. Wish you could've come celebrated with me. :(

4 minutes ago · 1 person

**Jacob Black**

Me 2. But the fans can't get enough of me. I gotta deliver!

4 minutes ago · Like

**Bella Swan**

OK

3 minutes ago · Like

**Jacob Black**

u should've gotten ur gift already. Did you?

3 minutes ago · Like

**Bella Swan**

Yeah.

3 minutes ago · Like

**Jacob Black**

Oh. I thought you'd like it more. I know how much you love that show.

2 minutes ago · Like

**Bella Swan**

Yeah. I love it. I'd love any gift you gave me, Jake.

2 minutes ago · Like

**Jacob Black**

Like u loved the Beatles Anthology I bought for ur 18th bday? :p I think I heard I wanna hold your hand in Charlie's Cruiser once.

1 minute ago · Like

**Bella Swan**

Ok, maybe not that one.

1 minute ago · Like

**Jacob Black**

hey u sure your not mad Im not comin? I know u hate birthdays but you always love gettin stuff. YU so down?

1 minutes ago · Like

**Bella Swa****n**

I'm fine. And I understand. November'll be here before we know it.

just now · Like

**Jacob Black**

Aight. Sun's coming up. CU Bells

just now · Like

Now I knew where _one _of the packages came from.

Jake told me he'd miss my birthday a couple weeks ago, but it still hurt to see in black and white and blue with a shot of Jake singing on stage in his avatar. His fans had him and he had his fans: a bunch of people who didn't know the first thing about him. All they knew were his songs. None of them knew Jake like I did. None of them needed him. They didn't really appreciate what he gave them every night. He put his heart and soul into those songs, and they would forget him as soon as he left the stage.

I slammed the lid of my laptop shut.

_None of this shit matters. None of those people matter. _

I pulled my right leg from under me, shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight that filtered into my living room window. Another beautiful Indian summer morning. Not a cloud in the sky for the fifth day in a row. So perfect.

"_You can't change. You must stay with me."_

This was my sole gift from Edward, his voice. He left me no congratulations on Facebook for joining him in the dark ages.

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was Alice, I went back into the kitchen for a replacement mug. My birthday party was tonight. She was way too early. When I heard the knock again, I thought about the two UPS notices, pushed the mug down the counter until it hit the wall, and headed to the door.

"Bella Swan?" The young Black woman was short with long, black plastic-like hair on her head.

"Yeah." I took the two boxes from her and provided the electronic signature. One was long and flat against my tummy. The other was half its size but just as flat. I signed the boxes and watched her leave, about to slam the door shut, when I heard a New Orleans accent from down the hall.

"Bella!" Alice beamed as she strolled down the hallway and right into my apartment. I recognized her green fedora from last semester perched at the crown of her head, her hair purposely stringy beneath. She was a mishmash of styles. Baggy blue jeans weighed her petite frame down, and a t-shirt with a black mustache across her middle added a cartoonish flair.

"I have a lot of plans that you simply cannot avoid today. First, we're gonna cut that shaggy hair. You will be fierce!" She snapped her fingers in the air, then put it on her hip. "We're getting you a whole new wardrobe for the Fall. It's already on its way here. Then you and I," she said, grabbing the boxes from my arms and placing them on the coffee table. "You and I will have the best twenty-first birthday party ever."

"Alice-"

"No buts this time. I will drag you out if I have to. You're gonna have fun today. This is the only day you're gonna turn twenty one. Now here!" She rummaged through her Brooklyn Industries bag for a brown paper bag.

"It's the best bacon egg and cheese sandwich in all of New York. Eat it."

I took it from her but kept it at my side.

"Bella!"

"I'll eat it later, promise."

She huffed, digging into her shoulder bag for another item. Lifting the black flap, she pulled out a hot pink box. It looked like the size of something I hadn't seen in a month but with batteries that were sold separately.

"This is unnecessary," I said, blushing.

"Work it out, B. You look like you need it." She placed it in my hand and patted it with a smirk. "It will satisfy you the way the sandwich won't."

I pointed at the large box on my coffee table.

"Two gifts, a haircut and clothes, and a party at Cipriani? It's too much, Alice."

"It's not." She stretched her right arm across her chest, then played with her bronze bracelets. "Besides, I didn't mail you anything."

I took a step to the boxes. The short one was from Forks, Jake's neat print in blue on the front of the box. The long one had a printed From/To label on it. The contents under the From portion at the top made me drop the brown bag and pink box.

880 Fifth Ave.

New York, NY 10065

"Christ!"

I got up on my knees on the couch and slashed the tape down the middle of the cardboard with my keys. Inside was a bunch of foam-green styrofoam balls that spilled over onto the floor. Beneath them was a white rectangular box with a red bow and a typed note from the front desk. I skipped that note, opting to read the one on the box instead.

_You will be great. - Edward _

This was the gift Edward gave me the day he left me last August. The last remnant of his bliss.

Sitting back on my heels, I felt my fingers get hot and my eyes well up as I pulled off the ribbon, letting it slip into the box.

"Bella-" Alice said right into my ear. I didn't even notice that she had sidled up next to me. She knelt on the floor beside me. "Bella, maybe you shouldn't open..."

Carefully, I pulled up the tape and wrapping paper to see another white box inside.

It was an iPad.

I clutched it to my chest feeling like my heart was about to become the size of California.

"There's a note," Alice said, dipping her hand into the box. She read it aloud:

_Dear Miss Swan,_

_I hope this note finds you well. Mr. Cullen asked that I send this to you for your studies. This comes preloaded with all of the texts on your reading list. We hope to see you, soon! We miss you __two!_

_-Vincent_

"_You can't change. You must stay with me."_

I shut my eyes feeling my cheeks flush.

_This is a sign. An ominous one. __I'm a liar. I changed. He should stay in L.A. and help his dad heal. His father needed him more than I did. _

_He's not coming back._

Edward gave me this gift for a project, and I wanted to be great. I wanted to be everything I was before the lie, but I couldn't without him. I needed him to be better, but he wasn't here. I heard his sweet voice in my head and my heart still beat in my chest, but it was only a matter of time before it stopped. He may not come back. He didn't forgive lies and liars, Ben had said. This gift wasn't a sign of hope. It was a goodbye.

I saw Alice blush when I opened my eyes. She cleared her throat and pulled her hat off to walk over to the window.

"He couldn't even give this to you himself. He asked the doorman to do it for him," Alice muttered to the windowpane. "That was a lousy thing for him to do, Bella. It's your birthday!"

"His father's dying," I replied into the box. "He needs to be with him."

"If he loved you, he would've forgiven you right off the bat. He wouldn't have abandoned you."

"No, I'm a liar." Dropping back into the couch, I pulled my knees up, hugging the box to my chest. "He can't stand the sight of me."

"Do you hear yourself? You're not a liar. Please!" She whipped around and walked to me. Pushing the large cardboard box a bit to sit down next to me, she rubbed my knee with her right hand. "I know a thing or two about lying."

I turned my face away from her, resting my cheek on my knees.

"Bella, you're judgmental and self-righteous, but not a liar. You're also smart, loyal, and gorgeous. If I were Edward-"

"But you're not."

"I wouldn't do this to someone I loved. You wouldn't either. Edward doesn't appreciate you, B."

"Please don't call me that," I said, drawing out the "please." "My name's Bella, not a consonant.'"

"Okay."

"And I don't feel comfortable talking about him with you. Can we just drop it?"

"We can do whatever you want. It's your birthday. Let's get ready for the salon, _Bella. _Frank doesn't like to be kept waiting."

I lifted my cheek to look back at her bright eyes and quick smile. She was so chipper. Maybe this was the gift liars received day in and day out: peace of mind. They told so many lies, they couldn't differentiate between fact and make-believe. They manufactured their own dreamlands everyday. Was this was what I had to do to survive? Alice lied about Edward raping her and made his life a living hell. I wouldn't let her lies affect me in the same way. I would be smart enough to tell the difference between what I lived and what I fabricated.

So, what if Alice's dreamland was the answer? What if I could fall into hers just for today? Her dreamland might be the only way I would not feel like I was made of styrofoam. I wanted to smile again, even if it was a make-believe smile. Pretending that I was happy had to be better than being completely miserable. And if Edward was never coming back to me, then what was the harm in pretending?

"Okay," I muttered. I ran the back of my hand under my chin. "So, let's go. Let's go be twenty one."

"Ooh!" She clapped her hands together. "You'll love Frank. He'll make you so beautiful," she said pulling a tube of gloss from her pocket.

I turned my cheek away from her, staring at the iPad.

"Thanks. I needed to hear that."

She quickly recovered with, "You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You know what I mean. Get ready for a whole new Bella Swan!"

Alice was right. By the time we left the salon, I was more beautiful than I could've ever dreamed. It was the perfect cut for the new me. After a complete makeover at Alice's apartment in the West Village, I looked in the mirror and loved the glamorous transformation.

"The boys will be falling all over you tonight, Ms. Taylor," Alice said, turning on the TV. We were seated on her plush white sofa, drinking champagne while waiting for the cab.

"Oh please." I rolled my eyes. "You're the one who looks like you belong in a Maroon 5 video." She tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. It was an unnecessary move. My hair was no longer an unruly mess thanks to her and Frank. He was the first to call me "Ms. Taylor" after my cut. I got goosebumps hearing them call me that. I didn't have Elizabeth's violet eyes, her grace, her timeless beauty.

"You know, I met Adam, once. He totally wanted to do me," she said, laughing at my shocked expression. "It's not that big a deal. I meet a lot of celebs because of mom."

"Oh... So, will... I mean, do you think..."

"What? Spit it out, Bella. I swear, you've become so mousy since you started dating Edward. Where's the girl who called me an 'ungrateful snob'?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't like her too much, anyway. She _was _'self-righteous' and 'judgmental' as you put it."

"Huh. Well, I did. I liked her a lot." On her On Demand screen, she chose an episode of "Sex and the City." I clapped my hands like a seal.

"Alice! I didn't know you liked this show?"

She grinned with a light pat on my knee. "Who doesn't? So, I've gotta ask, who are you?"

I bowed my head. "Samantha. Well, I used to be. I guess I'm Charlotte, now."

She nodded. "If you were Samantha before, you'd never be Charlotte, now. But you could be her. Be bold. Be yourself, unapologetically."

As the title screen appeared, "What's Sex Got to Do With It?", Alice's phone rang. It played Florence and the Machine's "Dog Days Are Over." I hummed along the rest of it after she picked up.

"Ooh, limo's here!" She shut the TV off.

"You didn't!"

"We're going to Cipriani's." She grabbed the chilled champagne and our flutes. "Did you really think I was gonna roll up to my own party in a yellow cab?"

"Alice, this is too much."

"Nope, it's just right." She pinched my nose. "Let's go, Ms. Taylor."

From the moment we stepped into the stretch limo, Alice was incredible. She and her assistant, a girl named Tia, ran the festivities like a military commander, all with the sweetest smile on her face. It was always genuine, too. I didn't know how she did it, especially in her lavender six-inch stilettos. They matched the gigantic balloons that decorated the round dining tables, the lights that lit up the columns and super-high arched ceilings. Even the candles on my three-tiered cake were lavender. It wasn't my favorite color, but I was beginning to warm up to it.

It was an exhausting affair full of liquor, music I shook my booty to, and just about every student who was enrolled at NYU. Well, everyone except Jessica. There were hundreds of people, dozens of gifts, and people who came up to me saying, "Happy Birthday, Brit." Some of them even showed up with gifts for Alice.

Despite her absence, Jessica's gift was, hands down, my favorite.

_**(347-555-3469): **__r__u trying __2__ ruin me? I'm sick of doing everything on my own. Do the fucking research, Bella! If u don't get ur act together by next week, our deal's off and I'm telling Evans._

_11:10 p.m._

She needed to chill the fuck out.

"Was that text from Edward?" Alice asked, startling me. I was seated at the throne smack dab in the middle of the room for the first time tonight. I refused to go anywhere near it when Alice introduced me to everyone, ushering me in with a couple of huge men who looked like "Men in Black" extras. They remained in my

vicinity throughout the night, literally turning away every guy who asked to dance with me.

Now, I lifted my head to see her directly in front of me. "Give me the phone!"

"No, it wasn't. It was Jessica. I just need to catch up with school." I dropped my phone into the silver clutch Alice and I picked up on our way here. It wasn't my style, but maybe it was time to make it so.

At the sound of Jessica's name, Alice scowled and began pulling at her hoop earring. "What's that bitch done now?"

"Nothing. Nothing. I'm just gonna ignore it and have fun. I really need some more vodka."

I wanted to ask her why she looked like she wanted to pummel Jessica, but the DJ pulled her away with a question.

I remembered her reaction last spring. She had called Jessica a leech at the Thai restaurant. I was curious back then but not enough to ask. I thought it was an unnecessary truth, but it turned out to be very necessary now. I had to do a final project with this girl. What if she did something to sabotage me? I wasn't doing my part at all right now, but I'd get my act together eventually. I had to pass this class because it was the last prerequisite to what I've wanted to do since last year: my thesis on Hamlet. And if she did anything to screw me over, I wouldn't be able to do it this spring.

"Bella, hey! Our song is playing." It was Erik. He snuck up to me while the guards were handling a couple of brutish jocks behind the throne. He offered me his hand, and I willingly took it. It was an opportune offer, as I would've spent the rest of the party worrying about school. I just had to do my own homework and cover my bases. Worrying wasn't necessary.

Erik was a great dancer, much better than any of the other guys I dated. When he did Beyonce's full "Get Me Bodied" routine, I just had to stand back and ogle him. He was yet another amazing part of Alice's world that I was lapping up like a starving puppy. Her world was a magical dreamland chock full of welcome distractions. By the end of the night, when the buzz wore off and Erik left to dance with his partner, I was alone to my thoughts, and Edward's voice.

Drinking my last Grey Goose shot, I saw Alice take a pill and down a bottle of water near the bar. The sight of her tossing her head back both thrilled and scared the crap out of me. Was she hurting herself now? Why would she be? She seemed so happy.

But deep down, I wanted to know if she had something for me. I needed to live in her dreamland and sleep in mine. Just for tonight.

"Alice," I waded through the grinding mess of bodies to the bar.

Her eyes lit up and that genuine smile crossed her face. She brushed her hair back.

"Thank you so much for tonight! How did you know I loved Beyonce? I could dance to her music forever."

She shrugged. "If you liked this, you'll love the party I'm throwing on Halloween." She reached down to pick at a loose thread on my black mini-dress. I never thought I'd wear a dress this tight and short in my life. I was certain at least one person saw my underwear because of the deep dip down the back.

"Thank you. I think I'll come. I mean, I'll definitely come. I just need one more thing from you before I leave."

"Anything Bella. Anything for you," she said. Then, she hugged me, rubbing my lower back. The warmth of her tiny hand seeped into my spine. When she pulled away, she stared deep into my eyes and an intense emotion passed through us. I had never seen her look at me like that before and didn't know what to do.

She backed away with a blink, and grinned again. She held both of my hands in hers.

"There's still two minutes left before midnight. Make any wish, and I'll make it come true."

"I saw you take something just now."

"Oh! They will make every bad experience in your life turn into Mardi Gras." She didn't hesitate to hand me the tiny baby blue pill with a K punched in the middle. "If you need more, let me know. It's totally safe and legal."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been on this stuff for the last few months. It's kept me sane, Bella. I think it'll do you some good." She patted my shoulder. "Now, you look exhausted. Do you need me to call the limo to drive you home?"

"Um, sure. Okay. Thanks so much, Alice."

The limo ride was smooth and quiet, but for the twenty or so minutes it took to get to my apartment, I couldn't sit still. I took the pill as soon as I got inside and crawled up and down the long dark space. I hoped it was immediate. I hoped it would bring me to the real dreamland I had sought out for the past two weeks and kept me there throughout the night.

When I lay my head on my pillow, I was thankful. It didn't take me half an hour or a warm shower or a packet of over-the-counter pills to go to sleep. And when I woke up, thanks to Alice, Edward's words didn't invade my mind. My body didn't have a layer of cold sweat, neither did I feel the thump between my thighs.

I walked over to the window, stunned. For the first time in two weeks, I saw the sunlight instead of the darkness.

***Abracadabra***

**Bella Swan**

Brandon Inc. I did it, ok? I posted my pic. There you happy?

September 16, 2010 · 1 person

**Jacob Black**

Hot! U look like that girl on 90210. Jessica something

September 16, 2010 · Unlike · Comment

You like this.

**Bella Swan**

Stroup?

September 16, 2010 · 1 person

**Jacob Black**

Yeah her! Hot!

September 16, 2010 · 1 person

**Brandon****Inc.**

I agree. Very hot.

September 16, 2010 · 1 person

_**(347-555-3469)**:__ Evans looked afraid of you today. I don't know what you're taking but keep taking it. Oh, and I need to borrow that Branagh DVD. Don't forget to bring it next class!_

_4:30 p.m., September 16, 2010_

**October 3****0****, 2010**

Alice had a habit of holding my hand when we were out together. It was a comfort since I felt like I would float away any second. The black hole had swallowed all of my major organs. If someone operated on me today, only my heart would remain. I stayed on the ground because it still existed inside of me, pumping blood to my face and limbs to keep me looking as normal as possible.

When we walked through Abracadabra, the costume shop in the Flatiron District, she intertwined our fingers and asked me to pick out whatever I wanted. She'd add it to my tab for her birthday celebration she had planned next March. She wanted to go to the Times Square Dallas BBQs at noon- because that was when it wasn't a zoo- with Erik and me as her sole guests.

"I throw parties for a living. You think I want a big bash for myself? Heck no! And you gotta try their Piña Coladas, Bella. I could drink those for the rest of my life."

Down in Abracadabra's crowded basement, she tried her costume on first with an abundance of enthusiasm. After she pulled the trigger off her left bra cup and a little red flag spooled out with "Bang" in bold black letters, we both collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles.

"Gaga ooh la la! Want your Bad Romance!" She growled in her best Gaga impression. The other people trying on costumes loved the look, suggesting she wear it with a real wig to give it the authentic feel.

I couldn't believe she was gonna prance around Fat Black Pussy Cat in a bra and underwear, but she swore it wouldn't be a big deal. She had been far more vulnerable in her life.

I chose to mock myself with my costume. Oddly enough, it made Alice's eyes open as wide as magnifying glasses.

"I don't think anyone will call me Brit this time," I said, stroking the soft white feathers down my stomach and on my hips. My hands went back and forth and so did her eyes.

"Well? What do you think?" I asked, folding my hands before me. The air was charged in a way that I didn't like, in the way it was when she intertwined our fingers and gazed at me at Cipriani. Her response made me stop to question what was happening with us.

"You make a beautiful swan, Bella."

"Alice, what's going on, huh? Why've you been acting so weird?"

She sucked her bottom lip for a second before grinning. "I'm acting weird to you? How?"

"You're just really..."

"Really what?"

"You're so hands on. I don't get it."

"Oh." She walked around me so that I couldn't see her face. When I looked up into the mirror, I saw her reflection clearly. She was still smiling. I realized it must've been the drug she gave me. They had a strange numbing effect so that nothing seemed too bad or too good. Everything was A-OK everyday.

It was great at keeping me well-rested, but I still woke up with Edward first and foremost in my mind. This morning, his voice returned but it was softer and echoed sweetly.

_"__I see my future right here.__"_

"I just feel a little bit uncomfortable. And I don't wanna be more than friends right now. It wouldn't even be fair to you. I can't give you what you need."

She didn't reply to that, and we left the shop with our costumes in silence.

She kept her hands stuffed in her pockets throughout the entire cab ride to her Bedford St. apartment.

Her smile was sad as she waved goodbye and gave the driver the rest of the fare to my apartment in Brooklyn.

As soon as I turned the locks on my front door, I called her to apologize. I hated that I hurt her feelings. It wasn't right, not after everything she had done for me over the past three months. It was a miracle I was alive and the magic K pills- what I found to be Klonopin, an anticonvulsant- performed a huge feat in making me feel close to normal. So, my sex drive went kaput, and I needed my Rabbit only once in the last couple months, but it wasn't as if I needed a strong libido these days. I remained in her dreamland for much longer than I had anticipated, but the pills brought me to such a productive place, I didn't want to let it go.

When Alice didn't pick up her phone, it gave me an idea. I had to thank her for everything before her birthday, and I needed to get Erik involved. This would be a nice surprise for her after working so hard on running the Halloween party tomorrow.

I sent Erik a message via Facebook, since I had neither his phone number nor his email address. He was always logged on, anyway. Every night I checked to see if Edward posted anything about Carlisle, Erik would be on the chat with the green dot next to his name. I guess I wasn't the only one who battled insomnia.

On my iPad, I tapped the screen to open Safari and loaded the Facebook page.

**Between You and Erik Yorkie**

Bella Swan October 30, 2010 8:58 p.m.

I hope you're free November 4th. Around noon? I wanna surprise Alice with a surprise dinner at Dallas BBQs.

Of course, he replied immediately.

**Between You and Erik Yorkie**

Erik Yorkie October 30, 2010 8:58 p.m.

I'm in! I've been dying for some tempura! See you tomorrow, Bella. Happy Halloween.

The iPad might have been Edward's goodbye gift to me, but I treasured it as if it were a true birthday gift. Every time I read a passage for class, I felt like I was back in the penthouse, the chocolate leather cushions of the couch sticking to the backs of my legs, waiting for him to get home from a meeting with Ben. The iPad was also a daily reminder that, for a time, I was the one who added the skip to Edward's step and that soothed me in a way the Klonopin never did.

Jessica reaped the most benefits as a result of my Klonopin use. My mornings were spent reading everything I hadn't last summer and more. I even followed a schedule to stay on top of my rigorous school work. I was just about done with the project, to Jessica's joy. After Thanksgiving, she had a packed schedule at her internship at the Shubert Theater, and wouldn't be available for class. So she asked that I help her get it done by November 11th. It was a challenge I was more than happy to meet because she'd turned out to be nothing like I assumed she'd be as a partner and even as a person.

When I struggled to catch up initially, Jessica covered for me. She could've ratted me out in a heartbeat and persuaded Evans to do the project alone. After a late study session that lasted until two a.m., she persuaded a cab driver to drive me to Brooklyn for half the fare for goodness sakes! She stuck to me like the "bestie" she had always claimed we were last semester. I wouldn't go as far to say Jessica was my friend, but she certainly wasn't a cocksucking cuntwhore.

My life was back, somewhat. School was going well. I was able to sleep through the night. Alice and Jessica were turning out to be really cool people. Life was better.

But I was still homeless. My home was Edward, always.

I slid my finger across the smudgy screen to the grey x, about to close the page, when all of a sudden a green dot appeared next to Edward's name in the chat.

I lifted my finger, my mouth going dry. I was ready for my heart to feel like it was about to dash up my throat and start typing apologies and pleas for forgiveness in the chat window.

It didn't happen. My heartbeat was steady. I was too level-headed now. I remained calm as I saw Edward's name gray out, then five seconds later disappear.

I checked his profile page, hoping for some sort of news. To my merriment, there was one update, but it was a comment on Ben's profile. So, I tapped that link and saw my future.

**Ben Cheney**

Got the BEST fucking news today! Awwwwww shit!

10 hours ago · 74 Likes · Comment

**Tanya Denali**

Ben, calm yourself before you fall over ;)

10 hours ago · 100 Likes · Comment

**Ben Cheney**

I'm calm. Be happy for me, Tanya. Damn. *bitch*

10 hours ago · 10 Likes · Comment

**Edward Cullen**

Good news? Let's hear it.

3 minutes ago · Like · Comment

**Ben Cheney **

You'll see yourself when you get here next week.

2 minutes ago · Like · Comment

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for such inspiring and insightful reviews. Loved each and every one of them, and I'm deeply grateful for your support. Also, thanks to those who voted for me for last week's Fic of the Week. Really stunned even now.**

**Bye. :)**


	37. Chapter 34 Easy

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 3****4****- Easy**

**November 1, 2010**

Edward was here. He was in New York, and I had no idea what to do about it.

I definitely didn't ask Alice for advice. She wouldn't want me to see him. She'd badger me incessantly if I did. That fact and his return to New York made me reconsider what I had accomplished in the last few months, or, more precisely, who I had befriended. Edward wouldn't accept my friendship with Alice, and I couldn't jeopardize our reconciliation if he found out about us. I had to be good. Alice had to understand that I needed him. I couldn't see him if I hung out with her. It would mean another lie, and I would never do that to him again.

I just had to tell her that I couldn't see her anymore.

I woke up on Halloween, taking the Klonopin to continue the equilibrium it offered throughout my day. It would make telling Alice that I had to stop seeing her that much easier. But when I showed up at her apartment on Bedford, she was floating on cloud nine. Gun bra in hand, she smiled at me in her genuine way and told me tonight was about fun. As she held my bare face and applied a shimmery pink blush and lipstick with silver eyeshadow, I begged her to keep it light. I didn't want to wear makeup at all, but she convinced me of its necessity.

"Beautiful, Ms. Taylor," she said while fluffing my hair. It had grown since September. I didn't really look like Elizabeth anymore; I looked more like me. "You'll be the most beautiful swan ever!"

When I looked in her bathroom mirror, I was surprised by the woman I saw. I didn't look like me at all. I was beautiful, but not me. It was Halloween, after all. I should've been glad that my costume enhanced me tonight. But I was worried. Who would I find when I took the costume off later? What if she wasn't good enough for Edward? I may never be good enough for him again.

The moment we arrived at Fat Black Pussy Cat, Alice greeted the party-goers with glee, giggling and flitting about. My determination to tell her fizzled. She wasn't present at all, anyway. She pulled out her blue magic K once that night and downed it with water. Then, she went up and down the club to speak to everyone, asking if they were having a good time. Everyone except for me.

"So, did you order the balloons for Thursday?" Erik asked as the party was winding down. He said this with a terrible London accent. Considering how much of an "idol" he was for Halloween, it made sense.

"Oh! Not yet. I will tomorrow." I eyed his high platinum-blond spiky hair. "I could swear one of the balloons could fit in your hair, Billy."

"Billy? As in Billy Idol?" Erik groaned, opening his long black leather coat. "Hello!" He broke the accent. "Didn't you watch 'Buffy'?" He puffed out his chest. "I'm Spike." The accent returned, like acid in my ears.

"Oh yeah. I loved that show, but... Spike didn't speak like a pirate." I patted his shoulder.

"Tyler digs it." Erik rolled his shoulders back until I let go of him.

"Tyler digs everything you do. You're dating him."

"And my opinion's all that matters in the world, Swan Lake," Tyler said, walking up behind Erik. It was fitting that he had the matching pale skin and was dressed all in black. He had lofty dark brown hair, though, and dark brown contact lenses over his gray eyes.

"Are you... Angel?" I coughed, fighting a grin. "And you two..." I pointed at them as "Angel" put his arm around "Spike" and kissed him on the cheek.

"Yep." Erik stroked Tyler's forearm.

"Where are your fangs?"

"Oh, those?" Erik formed his hands into claws. "Those are for later." He grabbed Tyler's ass.

Tyler grew bashful with a giggle. "Night, Bella."

"Have fun," I said with a little wave.

They pawed each other as they made their way through the crowd. Their PDA was akin to Edward's and mine. It didn't matter where we were, we couldn't take our hands off each other. We were in our bubble, and no one could get in.

Alice was nowhere to be seen when I left. I wondered if she abandoned her own party tonight, but Tia, her assistant, said she had to meet with the manager and didn't know when that meeting would end. I felt the size of a penny. It was as if she were pulling away from me first. It was unexpected, but probably for the best. Even if Edward hadn't come back, I couldn't stay here. Where she and Erik lived day in and day out wasn't reality.

Twenty minutes later, I hopped on the D train, nostalgic. My visit to Alice's dreamland was coming to an end. I needed the Klonopin, though. I didn't know how I'd sleep without them. I would schedule an appointment for a psychiatrist this week. I didn't think talking to one was necessary, but I couldn't deal with my insomnia again. I'd do anything to keep dreaming of Edward.

I walked to my apartment in the early morning chill with a new plan in mind. Thursday would be the day I would tell her. After we were stuffed on barbecue pork and sugary liquor, we would part ways. It would be a perfect send off and a huge thank you for everything she had done for me. I'd wait for Erik to leave, then end it. A perfect thank you. A perfect goodbye. Then, I'd be perfect for Edward.

I showered, sure this would be the right course of action. Seeing her later this morning would be tough, but manageable. We wouldn't exactly talk that much when she arrived. We never did. We were too busy doing other things.

In my bathroom mirror, I looked exhausted. My shorn hair was wet and my collarbone jutted out more than it should have. I turned my face to the right, noticing how prominent my cheekbones were, now. When I pinched the skin at my hip, I felt the bone where I used to feel at least a thin layer of fat.

The trip to Alice's dreamland had transformed me. I was barely recognizable.

I changed. From the inside, out, I changed.

When I crawled into bed and shut my eyes, I didn't dream of Edward. Instead, darkness seeped into my skin and make me cold. Mercifully, the doorbell woke me a few hours later, ringing like a foghorn.

Alice was right on schedule. Groggily, I made my way to the front door. It was time to step into her dreamland once more.

"You're not gonna watch the episode when Aidan leaves her again, are you? You know I hate that episode!" She whined as soon as I opened the door. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes. When I didn't get a full night's sleep, I was left disoriented and numb from the world. Klonopin required at least ten hours, although it depended on the person. Miraculously, Alice's sharp voice worked its way through the fog.

"Not even a hello this time, Miss Grouchypants?" I blinked again, and saw her clearly.

"Had a lousy fuck last night, alright?" She took off her green fedora, fluffing her bangs. "Some people weren't as equipped as I thought."

"At least you got some," I mumbled.

It had become routine for her to stop by my apartment after an event. She came over to watch a "Sex and the City" marathon with popcorn and grape soda pop. I never thought Jake's birthday gift would be used so often. I hadn't watched TV at all when I was at the penthouse. Now, it was on for hours on end.

"I would've been more satisfied if it never happened, believe me." She pulled out the giant bag of organic goodness from her shoulder bag. "I have popcorn! Your favorite."

"Mmmm! Thank you."

"Anytime, Bella."

I shut the door, wondering about her quick cheer. She was so aloof, nearly nonexistent, at the party. Now, everything was back to normal. I couldn't just let this go. It was pretty clear why she paid me no mind when we arrived at the club, and I had to put it out in the open before never seeing her again.

"Look Alice, I'm really sorry about what happened a couple days ago. I just felt a little uncomfortable, but I don't feel weird anymore or-"

"It's fine. You're still fragile about your break up." She opened the bag and popped one into her mouth.

"Oh." _It wasn't a break up. _"So, you're okay?"

She chuckled. "I'm always okay."

"You'll be okay with an abbreviated marathon today, then, right? I've gotta meet Jessica later."

Alice gave me the most fake smile ever before walking to the couch.

"Oh boy." I ran my hand through my hair. "What's your problem with her? She's cool."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! When'd you start drinking her koolaid? She's a cold-hearted bitch who wouldn't save a dying nun."

"Actually, she's alright. And it's not like I _like_ her. She's just better than I thought."

"Yeah? Well, you have fun with her now and get back to me when you're lying on this living room floor with a knife in your back, bleeding to death."

"What the-" I pulled both of my arms inside the oversized Tisch sweatshirt Alice bought me last week. "Did she do something to you?"

"No. I'd never let her."

"So, why do you get so riled up? She must've done something."

"She was born, that's what she did to me. Now let's drop this." Alice plopped down on the couch pulling off her flats. "You smell nice. Uh-" She cleared her throat. "The apartment smells nice. Like coconuts."

I sighed. "Thanks. It's a new shampoo. I got tired of the old stuff." When I grabbed the DVD from season four, She threw her hands up with a groan.

"You've gotta be kidding me, Bella." She whined.

"Suck it up and deal." I whined right back. "We can watch your favorites for the rest of the morning."

Alice hated Aidan and Big. She thought most of the men on the show were annoying, actually. Her favorite episode was when Samantha threw the Hamptons party at Richard's mansion as a settlement. She wished she could "settle" her exes in the same fashion, which she said to my astonishment as the end credits played.

"You have exes?" I asked after wiping my eyes with my sleeve from the devastating ending. Carrie looked so tiny in the middle of the hollow apartment. Aidan's love wasn't enough to overcome the betrayal. She'd have to find her love elsewhere, and there was nothing she could do about it. "I thought you were the 'use them until they're useless' type?"

"Not always." She passed me a tissue. "I've had a couple of torrid affairs. I had one last semester."

My ears perked up as I blew my nose. "Aidan or Big?"

Alice popped the popcorn into her mouth one at a time. It was the most mechanical motion and only two of her fingers got greasy. "Neither. Richard. Slimier than swamp mud. I wish I never touched that man's dick, and I hope he gets herpes."

"Alice!"

She grabbed the remote from the coffee table to eject the DVD. "I'm not talking about it, so don't ask. Let's watch the final season. Steve reminds me of my dad in this season. A good guy. I don't think it's in the cards for me, but you have a chance."

I blushed, grabbing a fistful of popcorn. "Why, 'cause you've sworn off guys after this mysterious bastard messed with you?"

Alice shrugged. "He definitely made me want to take a sapphic oath, but I like playing in the middle. Maximum pleasure." She winked.

"Oh, you like being a whore, then?" I asked, giggling, which made her throw popcorn at me, which made both of us giggle for a long while. She crawled over to the TV with popcorn sticking in her hair and some rolling to the floor.

"I just hope you find a man who treats you right. Someone who loves you." She dropped the disc into the tray, pushed it in and pressed play. Leaning back on her heels, she looked over her shoulder. "The only thing my ex gave me was this hat. He swore it was one-of-a-kind, but I saw him give the exact replica to one of his hookers last year. Ugh, he's such a slut!"

I stayed mum, reveling in her rant. She'd said she didn't want to talk about it, yet here she was going on and on about her mysterious hook-up.

"If this ex didn't mean anything, why do you still wear his hat?"

Alice grimaced. "I told you I don't wanna talk about that asshole."

I pursed my lips to fight a grin from appearing. "Okay."

"It's a nice hat, alright? I like it."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't serious, Bella. It was just sex. Anyway, I hope you find someone better. You deserve it."

Pulling a throw pillow up to my chest, I said, "I already found him, Alice."

She scoffed. "That wasn't love."

"It was," I whispered, hugging my knees.

"No, he hurt you." I shook my head as she spoke. "When Edward left, you almost died. Love doesn't leave us weak, it leaves us strong."

"What would you know about love? You've never felt this way. You don't know what it's like."

She turned away, her dark head bowed.

"Oh, I'm so rude." I smacked my forehead a couple times. " Of course you know."

Alice shifted a bit so that I saw her profile. She chewed on her bottom lip. "Yeah. For someone very special."

"I'm sorry about that. You were only thirteen, but Jasper was the one, wasn't he?"

"Yeah." She turned to the TV again to watch Carrie get splashed by the bus. "Someday, you'll have that. Maybe that high school friend of yours will have a better shot at you."

I chuckled as the title of the episode appeared: "One. " "Jake's like my brother. He'll never be more."

"Well, when he gets here in a couple weeks, maybe I'll change your mind."

I kept mum, my stomach curling with the thought that that could never happen. Alice could never meet Jake, because I could never see her again.

After watching Steve and Miranda finally give into their attraction, I brought up the lunch. Erik had come up with a great way to reel her in. She'd never expect it this way.

"Hey, did Erik tell you about a study session on Thursday? He said you had an exam on Friday on the Cold War. You're gonna meet him, right?"

Alice unbuttoned her vest then re-buttoned it. "Um, sure, yeah. He wants to go to the main library on 42nd and 5th instead of my place. I love that library. Maybe I'll get married there, too, like Carrie and Big were supposed to." She sighed.

"I'll go to help if you want? I got an A on that paper last semester."

Her face lit up, and she smiled at me from her end of the couch. There was her genuine smile. "Yeah. Sure, yeah!"

"Great! It's a date."

***Easy***

November 4, 2010

Erik was gonna kill me for being late. I was on the 4 at Franklin Ave when I realized that in my haste, I had forgotten the final season of "Sex and the City." Alice loved it so much more than I ever did. I went back for it, almost slipping on a sheet of ice from last night's ice storm, and now it was 11:30. He would bitch about putting up the balloons himself throughout the entire lunch. I would have to buy his meal this afternoon, too, as if I could afford it. Living back on the funds left over from my scholarship was brutal. I wanted to find work, but no one was hiring now with the recession, especially not an undergrad.

I took one step off of the 2 train, running through today's agenda once more. I'd meet Alice and Erik, then head downtown for class. I chickened out over the last few days, but thought of going to the penthouse later. I was too afraid that he might see me. If he did, he'd see Alice all over me, and I couldn't risk that. The shame changed my mind again. My apartment it was. Maybe I'd even call my mom.

At the foot of the staircase, I gasped.

There was no way. No way.

After maneuvering my way through the crowd, I climbed the steps up to the main station and felt them tenfold.

Unmistakable. Nothing felt like this.

I stopped at the top of the steps and hurried over to the side to get out of the way of the throng of people going up and down. I was trapped behind them, a sea of black coats and dismal or determined faces headed to destinations most seemed to despise. I clutched my neck as I became wholly distinct from them. I didn't have a destination. Neither did I have a mind nor body.

All I had were tingles.

They shot up my neck, into my cheeks and up my forehead. They zoomed down my arms, around my chest, and into my heart. They paralyzed me from the waist down so that all I could do was watch the crowd.

I would see Edward's fire. Soon, his thick head of red hair would appear, and I would tell him how sorry I was. I had to protect him from the truth because it hurt him. I would tell him I loved him so much that I'd do anything to keep him happy, and that we had to make this work because... just because.

How could I speak? I couldn't. No, I couldn't see him. I wasn't ready. I had to see Alice one last time.

I pressed my back against the cool tiled wall, waiting for the tingles to die down. Maybe he wouldn't see me. Maybe the Klonopin was fucking up. It wasn't prescribed for me, anyway. Yes, it had to be the drug. He wasn't here. When I pushed myself off the wall, they intensified, stealing each breath from my lungs. My heart was beating so fast as the fire warmed the lead and slowly replaced the dread. Every person around me was determined. They were cloaked in darkness. They had no fire. In this moment, I was made of fire.

Suddenly, I felt a cool hand clasp my wrist and pull me away from the wall. It was a rough hand. When I looked up for its owner, I found another black pea coat, a thick gray scarf, and the most volatile green eyes I had ever seen or will ever see in my life. They jumped around my face unraveling a spool of emotions from relief to fear to desire to sorrow.

It hadn't left him. Still, his wound gaped from his irises.

_Oh God, Carlisle._

He pulled me against another tiled wall away from most of the crowd. Some still crossed behind us. Some were so close running by us that my hair fluttered from the movement. They were too close, but quickly forgotten with one breath.

I breathed in Edward. Irish Spring. This was the first thing that was familiar about him. His hair was down his neck, curling around his ears. It moved when he moved, like a firestorm. Blond highlights made him seem softer and younger. He was sun-kissed and so red. His cheeks and lips and the tip of his nose were cranberry in color. These traits lent him a vibrancy that the hollows in his cheeks stole. A lump formed in my throat from how his coat engulfed him. His legs looked so skinny beneath him. His Adam's apple bobbed from his neck like a golf ball. There were so many new things, but the second familiar facet were his eyes.

They were open.

"Bella," he murmured as he pressed me up against the wall. My memories of the sound of his voice didn't do it justice. It was like the sun on a humid day, it weighed me down back to the earth. It heated my cheeks and my reawakened limbs. I could feel something hum deep in my belly, and it began to fill me.

I licked my lips, hungry for more of his words. My name held a different meaning when he spoke it. It meant adoration and relief and surrender. I ached to hear him say it again, to redefine me. I needed to be made like I was before. And with every utterance, his new words would drown out the old screams that were beginning to fade. Our life before the lie came rushing back to me.

"Bella..." His hand was an icy grip on my right wrist causing my hand to become numb. I was about to pull away when he just... let go. His brows furrowed as he said the next few words to me.

"Your hair..."

Those two words reminded me of everything and everyone I didn't want to think about since his departure.

He scowled as his index and middle finger pinched the tip of a lock of hair near my shoulder. I pouted, realizing that he never saw me with my original cut. That was when I looked like a true icon. I wanted so badly to be as magnificent as Elizabeth. She had a grace and ferocity about her in _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_. I was a fool to attempt to resemble her.

Slowly, his lips reformed from the deep scowl to a thin line. Following his gaze from the strands, to my lips, to my neck, and up to my eyes, he stared at me as I did him, trying to soak in every last drop. We remained like this for a couple of minutes. The sound of him breathing me in sent me back to evenings at the penthouse. He loved doing this when greeting me after a day of working on the set with Ben. Just like then, his thumb swept over my cheeks in the way that made every hair on my body stretch and reach out for him.

I hitched a breath when he bent his head down to my neck. We both shivered when his frosty cheek met my collarbone. Yet we remained this way until the tip of his nose and his soft lips no longer felt like icicles. He melted into me, with his arms tight around my waist and his breath warm and steady. With every warm breath on my heated skin, I emitted a shaky one and held him closer. The soft hair on the nape of his neck was so much softer than what my paltry memory had remembered..

I gripped him tighter when he lifted his soft cheek from my neck's curve. Beads of sweat formed and slid down to the tops of my breasts, and he stared as if he could see it beneath the layers of my coat's red wool and cotton.

The feel of his smooth jaw on the backs of my fingers relaxed and thrilled me. It was a fresh shave and meant he had an audition. What if he were staying in New York indefinitely? Where was he staying? Would I be able to see him? Everyday. I had to see him everyday.

I reveled in this possibility as he pulled my hands down from his cheeks and held them between us. His long fingers intertwined with my tiny ones. I became enraptured by the fresh scent of mint emanating from his breath.

I could taste him again in my mind. I could feel his passion on my tongue.

Gently holding my flushed face, he leaned down with a flick of his pink tongue over his lower lip. He was close enough to kiss me and catapult me back in time.

"I missed this face. I missed the fuck out of your face."

Edward's ever-changing eyes, the shade of red on his cheeks, the lines creasing and disappearing on his forehead, the arch or ease of his eyebrow, the curve of his lips all said more to me than a word. His face was my compass. It guided me to what I should feel, where I should go, what I should do with my life. It led me to places I would never imagine going in the world and even in myself. This was how it was and hopefully how it always shall be.

I memorized the cadences in his speech before responding.

"I missed you, too." My voice sounded so loud in my ears after hearing only his breathing for the last few minutes. It also caused Edward to pull back. I read every line on his beautiful face and saw something I didn't want to see.

In this moment, his face was more than a compass. It was a time machine. In a second, it transformed, and I was hurtled back to the present.

There was a slight but noticeable shift in his eyes. Rapidly, he blinked. Then, his palms, now wet with sweat, fell from my face to down between us. I tried to keep his gaze, but he turned away to peer at the escalators.

I couldn't tell what he'd do next. He scratched the crown of his head, his face still turned up for another minute. Then, he stared down at me. This time, it wasn't engrossing, nor did it take me back in time. It was an easy stare. He could've been looking at a fleet of pickup trucks.

"Edward, I missed you. I missed you so much."

Rubbing his ear against his shoulder, his body loosened up some, and he shook his hands a bit. Then, he wiped them on the side of his coat and stuffed them into its pockets. In a fluid motion, he straightened his back. His eyes cleared and a cool smile took over his face.

"How've you been?"

I blinked slowly, unsure how to respond to this Machiavellian shift in mood. What could I have said that made him change so suddenly? The rush of stimuli from the station hit me as I thought of a response to his question. Everyone's voices, the click-clacks of their steps, the stations beeps, dings, and bangs filtered into our bubble.

_Empty._

_Absent._

_Fragmented._

_Misguided__._

_Numb__._

_Lifeless._

_A liar._

_A liar._

_A liar._

"Okay."

"How was your birthday? Did you get my gift? I've wanted to give it to you for a long time." The volatility in his eyes from before was gone. Now, they were calm seas. No storm was on the horizon, no fury. Not even the foreboding viridian was hidden between his golden flecks.

"Yes, thank you. I love it." I had the iPad in my bag for something, but I didn't remember what.

"Good."

Suddenly, a Mariachi band began to blast the station with a cacophonous mess of accordion and guitar. It was a group of four men behind a couple of pillars across the way. The crowd of determined New Yorkers lost their focus and converged near the sound. We were surrounded by strangers.

I hated New York City in that moment as Edward's eyes veered off my face and down to his watch.

_No._

A sense of deja vu throttled me.

_Chocolate and cigarettes. An obligation. A commitment. _

I realized this was the same spot we were last May when we first kissed. The escalator had been abandoned and a comforting darkness had shrouded us from the rest of New York. We were in another dimension back then, in our bubble.

Now, the darkness was illuminated. Edward's skin glowed from the fluorescent lights. The last time we were here, he blended with the shadows so that the only parts of him that shone were his eyes and his hair.

There were two escalators transporting dozens of people up and down a new exit leading to 42nd St. and 7th Ave. One of those people, a teen with a bunch of chains in his back pocket, bumped into Edward. The kid kept going with a barely audible "sorry." Edward shrugged it off, but his body was turned toward the new exit already. Rather than take a step towards the escalators, he asked me another question.

"Are you back in Brooklyn?" He yelled over the music. His loud voice wasn't filled with concern. He asked this as if we were recent college graduates who hadn't seen each other in years and were now about to complain about New York's ridiculously high rent prices.

I nodded, following his fingers as they disappeared in his hair. I used to know where his hand would go when he would touch me. I knew when he'd take his next breath, because it would be the same time I would take mine. Now, I watched him lower his hand from his hair to check a watch I had never seen before in my life.

"I'm still..." He gulped and spoke louder. "I'm still at the penthouse. Have been since I got back."

"When did you get back?" I stammered.

"What?" He grinned. Charm and ease but so false.

When I repeated the question, I took a step closer. Our coats touched but just barely. Immediately, as if shocked by an electrical current, he backed away.

He ran both hands through his hair this time, staring down at the concrete.

"Edward, please-"

"I, um..." He took a deep breath, glanced up at me- not my eyes- then somewhere lower on my body, then up at the new fluorescent lights overhead. The next breath he took was an easy one. He lowered his face and a friendly smile greeted me. "It was good to see you."

He reached his hand out to my shoulder but stopped it mid-air and shoved it in his coat pocket.

"Maybe we could meet up?" I yelled over the music. Mid-question, the band finished their song, and my voice carried over the crowd. Everyone stared at me. Everyone except Edward. He watched them over his shoulder until they began to separate and hurry on to their destinations.

His apologetic eyes traveled from all the strangers surrounding us to the wall above my left shoulder. Placid apologetic eyes.

"I'm real busy now with the play. I don't think I'll have time."

"Okay."

His avoidance made me feel small, as if I were a pebble he could kick around. But news of him working on the play warmed me up all over. This must've been what Ben's good news pertained to on meant he _was_ staying in New York. It meant more chance encounters. Then, my earlier worries galvanized.

If he was back in New York, did it mean Carlisle was truly gone? I wanted to console him but thought bringing up his dad would make the wounds in his eyes as vast as the black hole in my stomach. What if his shaven face didn't mean an audition? What if it was for a meeting concerning his dad?

With a huff, I admonished myself. I couldn't possibly know why he looked like this or any way, not anymore. I couldn't console him. I had no right to ask about his dad. He would never let me touch him again, let alone confide in me. I was as much of a callous stranger as the kid who bumped into him. No worse.

_He never knew me. He never loved me._

As if he read my memory of his words, his eyebrows rose, and he rubbed his chin.

"You take care."

He headed for the escalator, determined, heading for a destination I couldn't even fathom.

The humming in my belly died down, and my fingertips prickled.

_I didn't deserve to know where he was going._

"Edward, I'm sorry," I said to his back. This time, no one stared at me. The crowd was full of people preoccupied with life's errors and omissions. He stopped, though. His right hand appeared out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck. Then, he kept going, joining the line at the escalator.

The tingles rushed into my skull so quickly, I saw stars. I had to lean back against the wall to take a breath. When the dizziness subsided, I searched through the people in the escalator to see him peering down at me.

From his profile, I could see his lips were pinched as he faced the turnstiles ahead. Then, a foot away from the top, he stared down at me. He was high above me but not so far that I couldn't see the expression in his eyes. Instead of the volatility from when he first grabbed me, or the easy placid friendliness during our brief exchange, I saw something I never thought I'd see in his eyes again after what I had done:

Pure lust.

I tried to follow him. I ran up the steps, pushed through the turnstiles, and maneuvered my way through the thickening mass of bodies at street level. To my dismay, only darkness pervaded the concrete. The bright screens of the Jumbotrons lit up the streets brighter than the midday sun, but there was no light. People bumped into me as if they wanted to walk through me. I wished they did. I didn't want to be in this body anymore. I wanted to be in his.

The tingles were like champagne bubbles down my throat, like steamy summer hail on my skin. They poured into my heart, and I felt it beating. It was still functioning because of Edward. This city was huge, and the chances that fate would bring us to this place for a third time were slim. So, I reveled in the tingles until they became pings in the heels of my feet and the palms of my hands.

I rode the 3 train to my apartment, thankful. Who knew if I would see him again. If Carlisle were gone, he wouldn't be able to do the play. He'd be a wreck. But if his dad was alive, Edward would be here probably until the end of January. The uncertainty riddled me, making me drowsy.

Now, I wouldn't need a pill to sink into ten-hour body-numbing slumber. I had his new words. And whether I was in dreams peeking through the clouds of my subconscious or grasping for memories, he was fresh.

Time would change this renewed sense of Edward. I would worry more about his thin frame tomorrow. Today, I grasped for the memory of the way his lips and tongue caressed my name.

An hour later, as I hopped into bed, I forced myself to lock away his curious shifting disposition and the fact that I revoked my license to find out about Carlisle's condition. Instead, I pulled my blanket over my head and mouthed every word he had said to me as if he were whispering them in my ear.

"_I missed this face. I missed the fuck out of your face."_

"_How've you been?"_

"_I'm still at the penthouse."_

"_Bella."_

This was what I needed now and forever. His voice rang in my ears as I stepped off the ledge of reality. In reality, his dad could be dead, and he couldn't stand the sound of my voice. In my dreams, his eyes were open. I tumbled down into his green pools and drowned.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews last week and to the new readers, welcome! **

**Bye. :)**


	38. Chapter 35 The Game

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

**Lovely kellyprovence. Thank you!**

* * *

**Chapter 35- The Game **

**November 5, 2010**

It was such a beautiful morning. I opened all the windows to let the pleasantly chilly air in and let out the heat in my flesh. I was so hot. Alive! I was alive, and my heart gushed blood and fire.

Stroking my iPad, I held it to my chest. Edward was the most perfect man. He would be beautiful until he died. May I bear him sons and daughters and live long enough to watch his red hair turn into white silk.

_"Your heartbeat is a symphony."_

These words repeated over and over in my head from my glorious dream as I got ready to meet Jessica for our one o'clock meeting. They were better than the words Edward had actually said. He didn't speak earnestly. He didn't speak passionately. He was a completely different person. It was as if he were putting on an act, and a part of me hated it, but there were moments of vulnerability in his eyes.

More often than it seemed he would've liked, there was something else in his eyes, something so palpable, I tasted it on my tongue even now: lust.

I had to give him space and let him come to me when he was ready. I couldn't force his hand and would wait patiently. I would wait until his hair turned into white silk if I had to. It would happen, though. It had to happen.

Maybe it would happen.

I pulled out my phone, about to text Jessica that I was on my way to Union Square, when I saw a bunch of emails from Facebook. I loaded the mobile browser and clicked the white icon for messages. What I saw punched me in the stomach and hurled me over a cliff.

_Between You and Erik Yorkie_

_Erik Yorkie November 4, 2010 8:30 p.m._

_Alice was devastated. She wouldn't stop crying, Bella. And you and I both know Alice never cries._

I felt a tear fall, then another as I reclined against the wall next to my closet.

How could I forget the lunch? How could this happen again? I didn't think of Alice once after Edward left; not during the train ride home, or my walk to the apartment building, or my exhausting climb up the stairs. I only heard Edward's voice. I thought there wasn't a bubble yesterday, but there was.

My fingers were numb as I typed a poor excuse.

_Bella Swan November 5, 2010 12:15 p.m._

_I'm so sorry. I'm gonna call Alice to apologize._

_Erik Yorkie November 5, 2010 12:15 p.m._

_Don't bother. She's got her real friends. She doesn't need you telling her sorry excuses. Just stay away._

_Bella Swan November 5 2010 12:17 p.m._

_I never wanted this to happen. If I could turn back time, I would. I'll make it up to the both of you._

_Erik Yorkie November 5, 2010 12:18 p.m._

_If only you knew what Alice did for you. Hell, you're so ungrateful, you'd still treat her like dirt._

_Bella Swan November 5, 2010 12:19 p.m._

_What are you talking about? What did Alice do?_

_Erik Yorkie November 5, 2010 12:19 p.m._

_She begged her mom to give you that internship last summer. Literally. Begged. And now you can't even show up for the surprise lunch YOU planned? No wonder her mom fired you._

Fighting down a sob, I closed the browser and went through recent calls for Alice's number. It immediately went to voicemail. I didn't want to leave her a message but called her again.

"Alice, I'm so so sorry. Please pick up the phone. Please. I'm sorry."

When I arrived at the cafe at the Barnes and Nobles on 16th, I faced yet another shocker.

"Hey, so you missed class yesterday." Jessica said over a large cup of coffee.

"What?"

"Class. You know, where you learn a bunch of shit you don't care about?" She lowered the coffee next to an espresso cup and a Red Bull. Her face was free of make-up, and I didn't think she even saw a brush in the last day. She had on a hoodie and jeans, which I could swear she borrowed from a friend. The outfit was as unusual on her as a store-wide sale at Barneys, a recurring dream of hers.

I folded my red wool coat and silk scarf over the back of my chair and slumped down into the chair next to hers.

"I forgot." Leaning over the multigrain bagel before me, I heard her snort.

"Forgot? How could you forget class? Are you on something?"

I pulled my iPad out of my bag and onto my lap. This was the second time I let this happen. I forgot the assignment for Kate's blog last summer because of Edward's birthday. Yesterday, my afternoon plans fled on one-way tickets to Timbuktu. I didn't know what was worse: hearing his voice all day, his commands before I made use of Mr. Rabbit, or this serious memory loss?

I could be certifiably insane but, honestly, I didn't care. Edward was back. Alice may never speak to me again, but that was fine. I was planning on ending our friendship, anyway. It was fine. My mind was sharp. This was nothing.

"No. I'm okay. Let's just get this over with."

Her hand rested on my arm, and she murmured, "You look like someone just ran over your dog. Are you alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I just think... I might have lost a friend." I hugged my iPad into my chest.

"Who? Alice?" From my periphery, I saw Jessica sip her espresso.

"Yeah. I really fucked up."

"Don't worry too much about it. She'll be fine." Jessica flipped open the lid to her pink iPad cover.

_"Alice never cries__.__" _I remembered Erik wrote. _What if she wouldn't be fine?_

"I hope so."

"So, Thursday!" Jessica said. "It's just around the corner, and you better not lump this class into the forgotten. I can barely think in December with all the promotion I have to do for 'Memphis.'"

"Yeah, okay. Yeah, I won't forget." I stared down at the bagel, and my stomach grumbled. I hadn't felt it do that in two months. "So, do you wanna use my iPad or yours?"

"Well, neither if we don't do the PowerPoint. Maybe we can do it old school and pull off a straight speech?"

"Should've known you'd want all the attention." I smiled wanly. She returned it with a shot of enthusiasm.

"That's right, bitch. I work it... even in this hoodie and jeans. But you! What's your secret?"

I gulped, my cheeks growing warm. "What?"

"You've lost all this weight. You look like Kate Moss. How did you do it?"

"Oh." I loosened the collar of my cashmere turtleneck and glanced down at my untouched bagel. "I don't eat."

She gave me a sidelong glance. "Ever?"

"It just doesn't appeal to me anymore." The Klonopin had given me equilibrium, but it didn't fill me. With Edward back, I was beginning to feel what real equilibrium felt like again. The dread was nothing but a strip of aluminum surrounding awakening organs. My stomach growled again.

"Well, it's working for you. You were so chunky last semester."

I picked apart the bagel with a pursed lip. "Thanks, bitch."

"Anytime. And thanks so much for moving this up. Evans won't know what hit him on Thursday. I can't wait to see his reaction when we're done.

"What's up with him? Every time he comes to our table, he acts like he wants to rip your head off and make me eat it."

"Ugh. It's really stupid." She said tapping her iPad screen on. "He's still annoyed with me about last semester."

_Oh God, was she about to admit she was his prostitute?_ I lowered my gaze to the torn bagel, rolling my eyes.

"What happened last semester?" I asked while nibbling a chunk of it.

Jessica cocked her eyebrow while redoing her messy ponytail.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" I leaned my elbows on the table to look outside. The clouds were overcast in a metallic gray, as if silver were about to fall from the sky.

"I thought Alice would've told you. You two are like Katy Perry and Rihanna these days."

"Hunh?" I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear before turning my iPad on. "What does Alice have to do with Professor Evans being so grouchy?"

Jessica shook her head and laughed. "Wow, girl. Where have you been? Alice and Evans had an affair last semester."

I dropped my hand into the pile of bagel crumbs getting them all over my sweater and jeans. It was a sweater Alice gave to me as part of my Fall collection. A brand new Bella Swan required it, as Alice led me to believe. Apparently, I didn't require the truth.

"Fuck," I murmured. It must've been part of her fabricated reality. She lived in a dreamland where she was my friend and never dated Professor Evans. She told me on Monday that she had a "torrid affair" with "slime." Evans was slime? How? Then, what she said about seeing her hat on other girls and how he was more like Richard than Aidan or Big made all the sense in the world. Evans cheated on her. She had a right to be pissed about that, I guess. He was her professor for fuck's sake. How could she fall for her professor? No, more importantly, why did I have to ask Jessica instead of her?

"What happened?" I asked Jessica as she helped me clean the crumbs off the table.

"I overheard them going at it in his office last February. It sounded like porn the way she kept saying his name. So OTT and gross. He meets his students and other professors in that office. He was about to meet me. If I hadn't gone in early, I would've inhaled their cum and sweat." Jessica gagged and stopped talking, finally. Every word she spoke made me more and more disgusted.

"Anyway," Jessica said, "I mentioned it to Lauren after I left, and she said there was a rumor going around that Evans hiked the grades for girls who slept with him. She was in on it, too. I just couldn't believe I was surrounded by a bunch of sluts!"

Where the hell was I living the last three years? I read every single one of these people wrong. Here I thought Alice was lost in a dreamland and that I could step out of hers whenever I wanted, but I couldn't even recognize my own. All these unnecessary truths were necessary. Everyone had whys. If I had delved deeper into Jessica's this whole time, I wouldn't have treated her so rottenly.

"Wait, so you never..." I fidgeted with a napkin.

"Me? Fuck Evans? Please! I like my men young and hot. Kinda like your boyfriend."

I blanched, which made her pat my hand.

"I'm teasing. Just teasing. I wouldn't do that to you." She chuckled. "Well," she drew out the word. "I would've back then but not now. And you two looked so tight the last time I saw you together."

I nodded, popping a few crumbs in my mouth.

"But..." She leaned in. "You fucked Evans, didn't you?"

"What? No!"_ Oh God, was that what everyone thought of me? _

"Come on, Bella, you can tell me. You do what you have to to get ahead."

"Never." I looked her square in the eye.

"So wait, how did you get an A in that class?"

Pulling the sleeves of my turtleneck to cover my hands, I said, "Research. Hard work. All that shit that we're supposed to do."

Jessica cocked an eyebrow. "But... I saw how you played with the guys sophomore year. I thought you extended that to faculty?"

"Christ! I'm not a slut. Dammit! Does everyone think I'm some kind of nympho?"

"No, of course not!" She leaned back. "Well, the guys do. I'm pretty sure that was why Mike was into you freshman year."

I rest my chin on my hands. "Jessica, I thought we were over that?"

"I am. I am." Chewing her thumb, she pondered something for a moment. Then, she looked up at me. "You know, I gave you all those pointers last semester 'cause I thought you would tell me you already knew about at least one. I was surprised you didn't know Ms. Evanson was accepting two students instead of one."

"Well, now you know why."

"So, wait... you got the internship fair and square?"

"Yeah."

Jessica shook her head in disbelief.

"Ms. Evanson liked my paper and me," I said, stretching my back. "She liked me enough to accept me."

"I doubt it. Alice had to help."

"Yeah, I know she did."

"Oh, so it _wasn't_ fair and square." She poked my forearm. "Knew it!"

"No. No, that's not what I meant," I said in a rush. "I just learned she helped me this morning."

"Ah, Saint Bella."

"Shut up." I grinned but said this seriously. "Her mom wouldn't have accepted me if she didn't believe in my paper. Alice isn't a sorceress."

Then again, maybe she was? I had built a friendship with Alice after she had done so much for me, but who was she? What kind of person would sleep with her professor for a grade? And Erik said she begged Ms. Evanson to accept me. What if I didn't earn the position? What if she played the game? What if Jessica was right and Ms. Evanson didn't really choose me?

Jessica pulled at the strings of her hoodie. "If only I were so lucky to have her in my corner. I had to blackmail Evans to get that internship."

"Blackmail?" I turned in my chair to face her. "You're fucking kidding me!"

"I deserved it. I wrote a damn good paper, but he said Evanson wasn't impressed. Such a liar. I didn't buy it. He tried to fail me, too. The only reason he wanted to was because I rejected him. That nasty asshole tried to get in my pants when I handed in my paper, but I slapped him in the face and told him I'd sue the school for harassment. He swore no one would believe me, but I told him I knew all about Alice, Lauren and the other girls in class. I heard he was let go at TNY because of a similar situation he had with his assistant. He 'resigned' after she threatened to file a lawsuit. Ugh, he's so gross."

I rubbed my chin. "If he's so gross, why didn't you tell the Dean? Lauren confessed the truth to you."

"The Dean? Please Bella, I had an internship to get into. I wasn't gonna tell on Evans. Lauren wouldn't, either, and Alice needed to pass that class because her mom would've killed her if she didn't."

"But... Lauren's your friend. He hurt her. And what about all the other girls he'll take advantage of? He can't keep doing this."

Jessica snorted. "Those girls aren't victims. They know exactly what they're doing. Alice and Lauren were puppeteers, not puppets. Alice probably got pissed at Evans 'cause he wasn't more discreet. She hates me because I found out her secret."

I shook my head. So Evans was a rotten douche who should've been fired, Alice and Lauren were sluts, and Jessica was the one who had the most integrity out of all of them? Well... marginally. She didn't sell out, and she wasn't fake. Definitely two-faced but not fake, not deep down. She was two-faced to get what she honestly deserved. I never read her final paper, but getting to know her over the last two months made me see her saccharine politeness was substantiated by her work ethic and drive. She wasn't a WASP going through the motions of her young adult life. She knew exactly who she was and damn anyone who didn't let her get what she wanted.

Jessica wasn't the cocksucking whore, Alice was. Everything she did, said, _was _was a lie. What if the last few months together was just another game to her? She had grown feelings for me that seemed to come out of nowhere, but they might have been there all along. I was just too blind to see them.

What if I were some trophy for her to win? The check she was going to give Edward, maybe it was to show him that she'd do anything for me? She was trying to prove that she was better than he was. All the clothes, the extravagant birthday party, the incessant pampering? That wasn't for me. She didn't get Jasper, Edward's last prize. What if she wanted me just because Edward had me?

Here I was feeling sorry for her that I forgot about our lunch? I had to end whatever this was with her immediately. I had to concentrate on getting Edward back... and the presentation. They were the only two pure things left.

"Say something you judgmental bitch." Jessica snapped her fingers. "You've never done a shitty thing in your life, have you?"

I worried my lower lip, then raised my chin. "I just can't believe you blackmailed Evans all for an internship. No wonder Alice hates you."

"Alice is a spoiled brat. I don't care what she thinks. And where do you think you would be if I hadn't blackmailed that son-of-a-bitch? How do you think I got him to lay off when you kept 'forgetting' to show up to class?"

"You mean-"

"Yeah, I mean, I saved your ass because of this. You're welcome, Bella."

"It was wrong, though. You can't keep holding this over his head."

"Oh please. What I did is nothing compared to what he does day in and day out with a bunch of underage girls. And working at TNY was too important to me to let 'the right thing to do'," she said in a grand manner, "...keep me from this internship. This was _not _'just an internship_._' Esme Evanson is my idol. I've wanted to be an editor my entire life. Just an _internship_? Miss Perfect, I thought you wanted the same thing?"

_I want Edward._

"I do."

"So then you do everything you have to do to get it. Hard work and integrity only goes so far. You've gotta play the game."

Pushing the plate of crumbs forward, I folded my arms over my chest. I did play that game with Edward and his family. I did whatever it took to keep Edward happy, and it backfired. I wasn't built for the kind of game Jessica had set up with all those people, nor did I wanna be. I just wanted Edward to love me.

"I think I'll sit this one out. Besides, look where our hard work has brought us this semester without playing one minute of this game. We're about to do our presentation a month before schedule."

Jessica patted my shoulder. "Oh dear. This isn't real life. I don't know what awaits us after graduation, but the game will only get harder. I'll be in the Majors, though, an All Star no matter what. You'll see." She pinched my cheeks. "Naïve little bit, I just hope to see you there with me."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Bye :)**


	39. Chapter 36 Closer

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

**kellyprovence, you tested me. I hope I passed.**

* * *

**Chapter 36- Closer**

**November 8, 2010**

Over the past few days, I tried calling Alice. I sent her emails and messages on Facebook partially out of worry but mostly out of curiosity. Jessica wasn't the best source of information based on her animosity towards the young woman who saved my life. Then again, Edward had warned me all along, and he was the only person in the world I could trust about anything. I couldn't even trust myself anymore. My eyes and thoughts lied to me everyday about the world around me. I couldn't make decisions without second-guessing myself. My instincts became an enemy.

Nothing was as it seemed. Nothing but the Edward in my dreams.

After being off the Klonopin for three days, my insomnia returned. I woke up in the midst of an orgasm last night, crying out for him. I spent the rest of the night in tears. The lust in his eyes on Thursday was too potent to stay asleep.

Tonight, I had another dream of him in my arms.

_I could taste him. He tasted like chocolate in the beginning. The last time we made love, he tasted like me._

_His teeth sharp on my nipples, he groaned from deep inside._

_No, I heard sobs._

_His lips were soft on my cheek. His tears surrounded me._

_No, I heard laughter._

_There was chocolate frosting in my ear. He sucked it off. _

"_Seeing you now... You're more real than anyone else."_

_His soul was inside._ _I clamored to keep it there, but it gushed out like a geyser. It didn't belong._

I woke up with a start, my sheets tangled between my legs. My sensitive nipples were hardening the more alert I became. When I dipped my finger into my panties, it came away glossy with a pungent scent.

My dream was like the others from September, pieces of memories that left me aching for him. I reached down to untangle the sheets from my legs. The mattress became my punching bag for a moment until my fist came undone and flattened on my damp sheets.

For so long, I had been in a haze of regret and guilt, my Rabbit working out my frustrations. Tonight, I needed more.

I had to see Edward. He said he was at the penthouse again. I had to go this time. I couldn't wait to end things with Alice. I needed him.

I pulled off my panties and threw them in the hamper when I heard the locks for the front door click.

"What the..."

_One. Two._

I ran for my galoshes as a force of habit. As I backed up out of my closet, I laughed at myself. The monstercockroaches were long gone and couldn't open doors. What was I gonna do? Squash the person? My mind had been too cloudy the past few days.

_Three. Four._

So slowly, as the clouds in my mind thinned, I remembered that only three people had the key to this apartment: my mom, the landlord, and...

_Five._

"Bella?" The husky baritone was muffled coming from the living room but was inimitable. "Bella, are you home?"

The galoshes slipped from my hands to the floor, bouncing a couple of times at my feet. Tingles shot up my face and down my legs. They ravaged me and stole my breath. I took a step out to the living room, then stopped.

I had no panties on.

"Shit!"

"Bella?" Edward's voice came closer. I hurried to my closet to grab my robe. I felt like it wasn't big enough to conceal my heart, which swelled inside of me with every iteration of my name. Wrapping the light cotton around my body, I tip-toed over to my lamp near the windows to turn it on. I needed to see him in the light to make sure he was real, but I also needed to stand far away from him.

_He shouldn't be here._

"Bella."

I hitched my breath.

He stood at the threshold outside of the lamp's reach. I saw his hair, illuminated from the hallway light. It was only a few inches shorter than mine. The rest of him was in shadows. He put his keys in his pocket.

I breathed in his scent, which instantly filled the room. He smelled neither of chocolate, cigarettes nor Irish Spring. He had on cologne. It was a light woodsy scent that wasn't him, but was. It was like an unfinished puzzle of his core scent.

He pulled off his leather jacket and dropped it to the floor. Slowly, he took a step to me. The lamp lit up his left hand, which he shook at his side. He flexed his fingers when he reached my bed. That was when the amber light shone over the rest of him.

He was still clean-shaven. He clenched his jaw, although the rest of his face was calm. It broke my heart how the dark circles under his eyes marred his beauty.

_I did this to him. He shouldn't be here. _

He wore all black. His t-shirt and jeans were loose on his thin frame. His chest didn't heave like mine, but when he looked into my eyes, his were at the limit of something that ached in my depths every night for the past four months: pure lust.

"Come." Was his sole word. He looked around the room as I joined him at my bed. This was the second place we'd made love. I lowered my gaze to my crumpled sheets. These weren't the same ones from that weekend, and the pillows were from a girl he despised. His scent had never graced these.

"Come here, next to me."

I felt like I was treading water as I joined him on his side of the bed. He was like a furnace before me, his eyes most of all. They were glued to my breasts, then traveled lower. When he glanced up at my face again, he stroked my cheek. Sparks lit up my skin with each brush of his thumb. By the time he fingered the tips of my hair, I was dripping wet.

"You've changed so much." I lowered my eyes, realizing the weight of his words. I broke my promise after he broke mine, but he had good reason. He had to go to L.A. I didn't have to cut my hair or lose so much weight or befriend Alice or lie.

I kept failing him.

"You shouldn't be-"

"Shhh." He placed his thumb on my lips, and the sparks multiplied. "Beautiful girl." My hollow stomach got all these fizzes inside, like I'd just swallowed pop rocks.

He uncrossed my arms from my chest, and the robe fell open. I was so embarrassed by how tense I was. He was my polar opposite, calm and loose. I kept shifting my weight from my left foot to my right and tapping my thigh with my fingers. All of this as the nonstop guilt invaded my mind.

_I can't let him do this. I can't._

But when he peeled my robe off my shoulders, I didn't stop him. It fell around my ankles, and I pressed my hands into my side to keep them from trembling. After a moment of watching his admiring eyes, I had to squeeze the tops of my thighs together. Despite everything I had done to him, he had that glimmer there. Slowly, he pulled me in for a hug.

"I wish..." he whispered in my ear. "I want... I wanna forget the last few months."

Raising my hands onto his chest, I pushed him away, wanting to see his face after he could say such a thing. I didn't want to believe it. I had to suffer for what I'd done to him. I underestimated the touch. After so much time apart, touching him again set my bones on fire.

We both cursed. My heart fluttered as I tried to back away, but my bed was behind my thighs, and I fell back.

_We can't do this_.

_God, but we could. He wouldn't be here if he didn't think so._

_No. No, we couldn't._

"You have to leave."

"Shh. Please." He shook his head, the volatility in his eyes returning. "Please."

I tried to lift my legs up to sit in the middle of the bed and cover myself, but he did something that made me stop... everything.

He pulled off his t-shirt.

I squeezed my sheets to check if they were real.

They were.

He had lost so much weight. His arms weren't as firm and his abs weren't as prominent. Every freckle I had fallen in love with highlighted his tanned skin, now a darker brown pepper all over. There were so many changes, but what I loved the most remained. The blond hair on his forearms stood on end. His auburn chest hair was mesmerizing as I watched him breathe longer and deeper. His abs tightened when he unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans. Blushing from cheek to chest, he kicked everything off. I couldn't look down below his waist. I would lose it if I did.

I closed my eyes, my thunderous heartbeat putting me on edge. I could hear him breathing. I heard the creak of my drawer opening, next. Then, the sound of something tearing. a condom wrapper. When he joined me on the bed, the springs squeaked. My eyes flew open, encountering his naked form. He was so close, I could feel the hair on his thighs touch my skin. It left the most exquisite warmth along my legs, but I refused it.

I scrambled backwards as quickly as I could until the back of my head and shoulders hit the headboard. Still, he wouldn't stop coming for me. I didn't understand it. He shouldn't be here. I hurt him. This wasn't real.

My attempt at reclaiming a hold of reality was lost with his next few words.

"I can't stay away from you anymore."

He said this with his eyes on my breasts, down my stomach and my pussy. He bent down at my feet with heavy lids and his hands grabbed hold of my ankles. He took his time, his rough palms caressing my sensitive skin. His hands left red splotches as they traveled up my calves and the outside of my thighs. My heart pumped riotously in their wake. I leaned on my elbows as he parted my legs open at my knees.

_This is happening. We're really gonna do this? Where was his fury?_

As his hesitant hands roamed my stomach, then squeezed my breasts, tears built up in my eyes.

"You feel..." he groaned, blinking. I exhaled. "I need to feel you." His left hand descended below my belly button to the curls over my center down to the place that pleaded for his touch for months. When he palmed it, his hands so hot on my tender flesh, my toes curled.

In my grip were sheets given to me in my darkest hour. They kept me warm during the coldest nights but weren't solid enough to steady me now. I quaked, panting his name. Tears spilled down my temples as his palm slid up and down the slickness. I pushed my body up into his hand, so close, and I couldn't stop it. I needed it. I had to let go all the frustration and guilt.

My thighs tightened around his waist as we came face to face. I grabbed his cheeks to keep him close.

He was here. He was so close, but I needed him closer.

His eyes were bright, anticipating my coming. Then, his forehead furrowed. Suddenly, he stopped stroking me. I bucked repeatedly and kept the motion until he kissed me. The taste of his tongue made the tears fall faster. He tasted the same. He was still Edward inside. When he pulled away and saw my tears, his somber eyes slowed the motion of my hips.

"Don't." He pleaded, gently lowering my hips back down to the mattress. He placed his warm lips on my right temple and kissed my tears away. When he crossed over to the tears on my left temple, his thumb circled my clit.

"God." I sucked in a breath, feeling as if he lit a match to my skin..

He kissed my left temple. In my ear, he murmured, "Every night, I dream of you like this." His voice cracked. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him down. Our foreheads pressed together, I fought to keep my eyes open. I didn't want to miss his eyes when I came. This was the root of every frustrated night, the absence of his eyes.

"You're so wet," he groaned. "Make it last."

I thrust my pussy into his hands, remembering those exact words from my hallucinations of him. I couldn't hold on for that command even then. Watching him lick his lips, I stroked them with my thumb and tried to focus for him. Once he plunged two fingers inside of me, my senses went on overdrive. The mix of the condom's rubber scent, his cologne, and my juices made my mind spin.

A swirl of heat quickly built up in my depths. With every muscle tight and tense, I kissed him again. His tongue wound around mine pushing me to the edge. When I dropped my head back into the pillow, the heat spiked. My thrusts were frenetic in his hands as I reached a boiling point.

At the brink of sense, I let go. And as his eyes widened, a million bubbles popped up high in the air so bright, as bright as stars. No brighter. They were as bright as Edward before he found out the truth. Those bubbles were my memories of the day he left. That day didn't exist anymore. All that was was Edward, here, in my arms.

I breathed. We were breathing. The aching thump sped up so fast, I thought everything in me would shatter. It had been insatiable and still wasn't satisfied. It was in desperate need of release tonight.

"Every night, I dream of you. Always of you." Edward murmured in my ear. He pulled my clinging arms from around his neck to get up on his knees. Even after coming, each touch sent me to a higher plane. As his hands glided up the taut muscles along my stomach, my nipples hardened painfully. Quickly, he lifted the stretchy cotton of my t-shirt up my ribs.

"I could feel you," he continued. "My dreams were memories of how you feel and smell and taste in my mind for days until I can think of nothing else."

"I have dreams of you, too," I whispered, overcome by his revelation. It was like it had always been with us. Subconsciously, we were the same. From the lines of Hamlet, to the stalking on Facebook, to the way I behaved last summer trying to protect him from the truth as he had wanted to protect me from Alice. We were mirrors, reflecting off of each other behaviors that had once been foreign but were now intrinsic. I pulled him up so that I could see him up close again.

"Baby" I murmured. "Lets make them real."

His eyes became a turbulent green with fiery flecks strewn about. I couldn't find an agreement to my sentiment. Instead, I saw shame. It was as potent as the glimmer, but this made so much more sense. Of course he didn't want to be here with me. What stunned me was that the shame wasn't enough for him to get dressed and leave. He was touching me in the sweetest way as if he _had _forgotten the last few months.

He pulled my hands off his face and slid down my body. He kissed my left rib and sucked on my skin as I pulled off my t-shirt. Deep kisses on my neck, on my lips, on my cheeks were like torches. I hoped for hickeys in the morning.

"Get on your hands and knees," he said, sitting back on his heels. He rubbed my pussy until his palm was shiny, then coated his cock with my juices. His touch was pliant, but his eyes were stringent.

I didn't want to turn around. I wanted to be closer to him. But his eyes tightened when I didn't budge, and he grabbed my left leg to lower it over the right as if he would flip me over himself. I didn't like how he gripped me. I wanted the glimmer back. So, I pried his fingers off, my thigh, crimson from his hold, and turned around. With his smooth strokes up and down my backside and thighs, I got up on my hands and wobbly knees.

He playfully spanked me a few times until I was grinding my ass into him. I craved for more of whatever he wanted from me, whether it be pain or pleasure. He shushed my whining, urging me breathe, as if I could.

"It'll feel so good, Bella." He pat the tiny hole between my stinging cheeks with his thumb. I heard him spit behind me and a sticky warmth landed in the crease. When I looked over my shoulder, he was rubbing it in. "Just relax."

"Edward, wait."

"Let me do this, baby." He kissed my shoulder, passing his open palm along my wetness.

I felt the tip first. White-hot pain pushed all of the air out of my body. As he dipped deeper, I stifled a scream into the pillow. My body shuddering, it was as if he were cutting me open with a searing hot knife. I curled my body into myself, the pain blinding me to everything else.

"Breathe," he grunted. "I'm barely inside. Come on."

I swallowed hot tears and thick saliva as he pulled out and rubbed my clit.

"Relax."

"I don't wanna-"

"You do. You'll like it. You just need to calm down, okay?"

I thought of the glimmer and adoration and took a couple of shallow breaths, then a deep one.

"Okay."

After a couple of soft kisses on my shoulder, he passed his fingers along my clit until I was eager. I pushed back into him. He was right, I wanted it. I wanted him to be happy, no matter what.

Inch by inch, he pushed his cock back inside. To my delight, the sharp pangs from before weren't as intense and equaled the brewing pleasure in my depths.

"Good fucking Christ!" His fingers dug into my hips when I felt him so deep inside his pelvis touch my ass. As he pulled out, I felt every single sensation my body approach a level of ecstasy that I couldn't even fathom. God, he was right. This was incredible.

In and out he went, so deep, it seemed like the tip of his cock hit my spine. After another minute, he raised his left leg, shifting direction, and I swear his cock reached my soul.

"Don't stop." I gasped. "Never stop!"

My mind was pounding with life as none of the memories of us together matched this feeling. I felt like I was on Mount Olympus about to rocket up into the sky on a lightning bolt. As the high of the pleasure rolled up my spine and down to my crossed toes, he kept going. With his fingers intertwined with mine on my pillows, he thrust one last time with a shudder. He murmured a string of curses that were tied with the most guttural groans, turning my legs into mush. When his arms wrapped around me, I could feel his heartbeat on my back. It felt like the wings of an angel.

"Fuck!" he grunted moments later with cooled flesh. He pushed me down onto the mattress to lay on top of me. "Fuck." It wasn't a sound of satisfaction or validation like it had been in the past with us. His voice was low and heavy. I think I heard the shame that I saw in his eyes before.

I was thankful he had knelt behind me so that I wouldn't see his eyes: my kryptonite. I was grateful that he let me come first. I wouldn't have been able to if I saw his face: my compass.

I lay on my stomach developing my fantasy. He could forget the last few months, just like he wanted. I thought it was time to escape the dreamland, but maybe I was wrong. I wished to return now more than ever before, and bring him with me.

I wished this as he pulled his cock out of me and left my bed.

I was grateful that he'd knelt behind me, because it made it easier to avoid the truth. I refused the truth: the shame _was _enough, I wasn't.

I heard his wet condom plop onto the bottom of my garbage can. With that, I willed away sound by covering my ears with my pillows. I didn't hear the rustle of his clothes as he put them back on. I didn't hear him say this was a mistake.

I did hear the front door open a couple minutes later. Then, pressing the soggy pillows even tighter to my ears, I heard it slam shut.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Okay, so I just want to cap this chapter off by saying that this is only the beginning of a long road to their reunion. This was not a "Let's fuck and make things better. Move back into the penthouse and marry me, Bella," chapter. The reunion's not gonna be easy, but I need you to trust me. Not everything will be answered, and not everyone will do the right thing, but things will be resolved eventually. After all, there is that prologue to get to. **

**Thank you readers and reviewers. I love you guys.**

**Bye :(**


	40. Chapter 37 Stranger

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :(**

**This is very heavy.**

**I am very sorry.**

**For those who can't stomach it, there is abuse in this chapter. I wish I had a grading system for this stuff, but I don't.**

* * *

**Chapter 36- Stranger**

_**Jessica: **WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?_  
_1:00 p.m., November 11, 2010_

_**Jessica:**__ You better get your ass in this classroom in the next 2 minutes. YOU'RE EMBARRASSING THE SHIT OUT OF ME!_**  
**_1:07 p.m., November 11, 2010_

_**Jessica:**__ I should've known better. I should've demanded another partner. You're so lucky I got Evans in my pocket. I was able to sway him. But you're gonna have to deal with this shit on your own. I'm done._**  
**_3:15 p.m., November 11, 2010_

**November 15, 2010**

Most times, I would wake up with my skin prickling. At the sound of the front door clicking, I would groggily open my eyes to see a pair of long legs, clad in black or dark blue jeans, a couple of inches away from my face. My green pools would stare down at me from the headboard.

"You smell so new, like coconuts," Edward had said the first time I had found him on my bed like this. He had said this with a drop of Mississippi in him. He tended to keep this accent for a while then sounded like himself after kissing me. "I miss the way you used to smell."

The second time, he had said nothing as he pulled me up onto his lap, pulled my t-shirt off and kissed me. I had thrown out the new shampoo as soon as he'd left and bought the old one the next morning.

He came to me every night for the last nine days. He smelled like sweat and rain, or peppermint gum and that woodsy cologne. Sometimes he smelled like chocolate, like the chocolate he used to smell like when we first met. The Jacques Torres chocolate. I'd taste it on his tongue and wanna puke but kept the nausea at bay.

He came in smelling of himself and of his world but left smelling of me. I could taste my juices on his tongue as we kissed, as he came. We were mixing again, becoming the same. My sheets were drenched by our sweat and mingled scents. Lust and the forest and sweet pears. It was what made me ravenous each night: our scents coexisting. It was as it should be; it just took a little bit longer this time. I prayed that one day my juices would taste like him, not myself. The sweet pear scent would be replaced. We just needed more time, and I needed his presence.

Edward never slept with me through the night. He walked in anywhere between midnight and one a.m. and left around two. Every fucking night. A few minutes after he would lock the door, I'd fall ill, the tingles popping all over my skin.

Nausea rolled around then spiked as I would run to the bathroom, dry heaving into the toilet. It was always hot air I expelled. The emptiness was a gaping void that I could no longer stomach. Yet no matter how many times I retched, the dread spread.

I woke up in the mornings, diseased and fatigued from four or five hours of dreamless sleep. Without the Klonopin, my body revolted. He was on my sheets and skin. I could taste him in my mouth, his sweat, his cum.**  
**

_He was here._ I had to keep reminding myself of this._ He was inside of me._

After Saturday, bruises and hickeys and nicks left evidence of him on my neck and breasts, wrists and hips. My ass cheeks were so sore, I had to lay in bed all Sunday. I never ventured to look at what he'd left there. His scalding hot hands left so many marks on my skin to remind me. I ached between my legs because of him. My clit throbbed with his lust. All the signs were apparent that he was here.**  
**

But he wasn't.**  
**

The late fall sunshine was dull on my skin when I opened the curtains to let some light into my room this morning. It was the ninth morning where I stared at the sky through my windowpane. It was the closest I would come to the street. I couldn't leave my apartment. The morning I bought the shampoo, the wind could've swept me away because I was so light. I had no organs left. My heart felt like it was made of spiderwebs. Smoke replaced the fire that used to circulate my veins. I was buoyant until he came back at night. Then, my blood became lead, and my heart turned black.**  
**

The sunlight highlighted every dark crevice, every discarded condom wrapper, crumpled receipt, or forgotten sock. My room became Edward's wasteland.

Maybe that was me.

Washing our scents off my body, the why girl piped up about how wrong it was for him to use me like this. She would warn me on her megaphone how if I never got him to open up, he would always leave my bed.

_What if he hurts you for real this time?_**  
**

I would step out of the shower, beaten down by her truths. Every night, I'd search for milder memories of him but found darkness. Then, in the split second the tingles rushed down my spine and the emptiness filled, I hushed the why girl's haunting words.**  
**

He was here. As long as he was here, there was a chance for change.**  
**

Last night, the hum in the pit of my stomach became a roar as I woke to the feel of his warm lips on the heel of my right foot. I bunched up the pillow beneath my cheek as his tongue joined his lips to kiss my ankles, then calf muscle, then left butt cheek. He didn't bite me, nor did his hands slap or pinch or scratch me. No, his hands were so familiar. He was as feverish as I was. I felt more of his emotions last night than ever before. I felt him and yearned for more.**  
**

When he plunged his cock inside of me, I clasped his face. I needed his eyes in this moment of rapture. Like the first night, he shared this with me without caution. I didn't have to break down his barriers to find it. It was served up on a silver platter. His cock twitched deep inside. He was coming. He was coming because of me.**  
**

Like a spool of ribbon, he unraveled on top of me, giving me his joy and fury and sorrow. He murmured my name so sweetly, it shook me to my core. Collapsed over me, he whispered how much he needed me.**  
**

"I need you. I need you. I can't stop. I'll never stop."**  
**

He kissed my neck as he gathered me in his arms and sunk into me. Our heartbeats were deafening. I could hear his just as loud as mine. He remained inside of me until our shaky breaths became deep ones. These were the times when I stroked his damp long hair, over and over, and when he kissed my fingertips one by one leaving behind stinging red skin. He was Edward, and I was Bella, just like it was and always shall be.**  
**

It took longer for him to pull away last night, just as I had wished. Yet, he did it all the same. The second he pulled out, he reverted into the easy, placid-eyed stranger. He put on his clothes and was gone in a span of five minutes.

I was nothing but tingles and soreness when he left, but despair never took hold of me. After ten nights of this, all doubt that he would return disappeared. Just like I knew he had to leave Jane all those months ago, I knew he would come back. He needed me as much as I needed him. We needed our daily dose.**  
**

I checked my Facebook page just like I did each night before bed. I was searching for clues of his days. Was Carlisle dead? Would he leave Ben another comment? Would he have photos smiling and goofing off during rehearsals? I hoped he was Edward to the rest of the world, at least. He couldn't be so withdrawn from them as he was with me.**  
**

My newsfeed had a bunch of photos of Leah and Jake that I skimmed over. There was nothing from Edward or any of his friends.**  
**

Leah said she'd miss Jake, and I saw Rachel's response that she hoped her brother would have a better time in New York than he did with her. I didn't understand this at all but didn't bother leaving a comment. Then, it sunk in that Jake was coming to New York.

His plane would land on the eighteenth at 3:00 p.m. I had told him I'd meet him at the airport, but now I wasn't so sure I could. I couldn't go outside to face all those people staring at me or ignoring me and talking to their friends and loved ones. I couldn't face them when they were so normal and happy, and I felt like I was waste incarnate. How could I face Jake?**  
**

I'd have to tell him I was super busy with school or something. He couldn't see me like this, not until things were better with Edward.

The next status update I saw was from Alice.**  
**

**Brandon, Inc.  
**I gave you all the love I got ...See More**  
**about five minutes ago · 46 Likes · 1 Comment**  
**

I tapped the screen of my iPad to "see more." The lyrics came alive on the screen, and a vague memory of the melody echoed in my mind. I remembered it was something my mom liked to listen to when she was down. I just thought the mermaid in the video was pretty. Before_ The Lion King, The Little Mermaid_ was my favorite cartoon when I was very little. To see this mournful singer embody her had always been jarring. When I was a child, I didn't understand why the pretty mermaid was so sad. I thought Prince Eric stayed with her in the end.

Now, I tapped my youtube app and searched for the video: "Sade No Ordinary Love."**  
**

The moment I heard her first word, I bit my lip to hold back a sob, but her words were too powerful. I didn't know when I started weeping, but when I stopped, I went to the bathroom to wash my face.

When I collapsed on my bed, the scent of lavender hit my nose. It had reeked of sweat and cum the last couple of days. I needed clean sheets tonight. This would be a different one from all the others.

I had to apologize for everything tonight. And even if he never forgave me, I couldn't let him use me like this forever. I needed more than nights. I could not sleep another night without knowing why he was so different.

He was still so thin. His clothes hung off of him. I hated seeing how all the veins on his arms and his ribcage were so prominent. I had to make him better.

After Liam died, he opened up to me about Jasper, and it tore him up. I couldn't watch him be like that again, but what choice did I have? During the summer, we would make love, or I would bake him a cake, and his day's troubles would disappear. He had told me talking never helped and that he never wanted my help. Now, my words were all I had left. Love was a four letter word I couldn't imagine he'd say right now, and I had no ingredients to make a cake. My fridge was empty. All I had were my words.**  
**

I didn't know if I was, but I had to be strong enough to pull this grief out of him without letting it consume us. Everyday he walked through the door, it became apparent that Carlisle was dead. His father abandoned him like so many other people he'd loved. Even if Edward pushed me away, I would_ not_ be one of those people.**  
**

I wondered how he would be tonight as I fingered the lace ruffles on my panties. They were cobalt blue lace with ruffles, instead of the t-shirt and cotton panties I usually wore. He would like this pair, which I had ordered online on Monday. It had a matching bra, but I chose to buy two more pairs in cerulean blue and dark blue, instead. I wanted him to gaze down at me with me in sweet adoration. I was hopeful this would ease him as we began our talk. Last night couldn't be the beginning of something familiar, not yet.**  
**

We couldn't be like we were before if he never told me how he felt. Even if it was hatred and shame and disgust, he had to dump it on me. My leaden blood could become so poisonous, I'd lose my final grip on reality, and it would be okay. If I had to suffer in order for him to stay the night and be Edward again, then so be it. He could strike me, and I would be so thankful because it would mean he was beginning to give me his truth.**  
**

Suddenly, the dread in my stomach fizzled, and my heart pounded like the beat of a thousand drums. I sat up against my bed's headboard with a start.**  
**

As I heard the locks click open, I glanced at the clock.

_One_. It was half past midnight.

_Two. Three._

I held a pillow up to my breasts, my nipples stretching into the dry cotton.

_Four. Five._**  
**

I heard his slow deliberate steps scrape and thump the living room floor. It meant he was exhausted. He was gentle when he was exhausted. This thrilled and dismayed me.**  
**

_I didn't deserve his gentle touch. It would be a false touch._**  
**

He approached my open door. The moonlight was the only source of light in my bedroom, so I couldn't see his face or his eyes. Instead, I took a deep breath and smelled him.**  
**

Jacques Torres chocolate.**  
**

My breath caught in my throat, and I pulled my knees up to my chin as I imagined Jane giving him a box tonight. I was making an assumption, though. Perhaps the chocolate wasn't from her. She might not have been involved with the play at all. It could've been from Ben. He knew he liked parsley in his spaghetti sauce. Yeah, the chocolate was from Ben.**  
**

I watched him walk to me, his eyes wide with curiosity. I wondered briefly if my being awake and wearing the lace panties was a good surprise or not. I had never been awake before. I couldn't see his face to tell me any more about what he was feeling and had given up trying to catch his eye before we lay together. He wouldn't look into my eyes until he was inside of me.**  
**

Pulling open the nightstand drawer, he rummaged through it for condoms like he did every night. This time, he shook one empty box after another before standing in a pile of boxes. His hand over his eyes, a deep groan rumbled from him. I rubbed the back of my neck. That was the only drawer with condoms in it. I hadn't bought any new ones since last June.

Edward shoved the drawer shut and reached into his coat pocket for his wallet, which he thumbed through to find some cash and receipts. With a gruff curse, he buried the wallet back into his pocket, a tight white fist peeking out then diving back into the hole.

"This is the last fucking thing I need to-" he started. His voice was gravelly, as if he'd been screaming all night. It also had the tinge of the southern accent. Last night, he had never had the accent.

He rolled his eyes and walked around my bed for my other nightstand. That nightstand only had a couple bottles of perfume and...

"What's this?" He asked after opening my drawer. He lifted the unlabeled orange bottle to his eye-line. Shaking it between his forefinger and thumb, the baby blue pills scattered in the bottle, clacking against the plastic top like hail. The prescription label read: Brandon, Alice. "Bella, what the fuck is this?"

If I said one word about those pills, I'd have to talk about Alice who couldn't come up, not tonight.

"I-" With my eyes shut, I dropped my face down to my knees. "I couldn't sleep. I needed them to..." He didn't wait for me to finish, crossing my bedroom. "... sleep."

He marched through the hallway to the bathroom, and plodded back to me with the empty bottle in hand. He tossed the white cap into my garbage can and crushed the bottle in his hands until it cracked. He threw this into the can vehemently. His shoulders were tense, and his breaths were shallow.

"Never see that bitch again." He rolled his shoulders back with his eyes still on the garbage can.

"I won't. I promise, okay?"

He shut his eyes as I said this and remained still for a couple of minutes as if he were preventing an implosion. Breathing deeply, the tension eased along the lines of his forehead and along his fingers. He was silent as he unbuttoned his black pea coat quickly, then flung it, along with his gray scarf, on the dresser. Heading over to the window, I saw he was wearing gray silk pajamas.

I tried not to freak out, pushing down the thoughts that he would stay the night. Pajamas weren't his style. He either wore boxers or nothing at all.

_God, but what if he did stay?_**  
**

When he faced me, he licked his lips as he kicked his boots off. His jaw was set, and his eyelids were droopy. He came back to sit down and pulled his socks off one by one. His weary eyes eventually rest on my legs.**  
**

"Edward-"**  
**

"Shh." He swallowed audibly reaching out for my right foot. He passed the back of his fingers over my toes.**  
**

"We need to talk about.. about what happened last summer."

"Shh please."

"I hurt you and wish I could take it back," I whispered. "I'm sorry."**  
**

His hand stilled, then rested on my sheets. The soft waves of his hair swayed from left to right as he shook his bowed head. Then, staring at the pillow covering my chest, he tugged it.**  
**

"Edward, I can't." I pulled my sheets up to my chin, unsure of what he would do as he came closer. This was one of the worst parts of our current dynamic. After nearly two weeks, I still never knew what to expect from him. All we shared were our passions and the same feverish physical demand to satiate each other. His mind was an oasis in the middle of a treacherous desert.

"You will," he uttered. He stood up and grabbed a handful of the sheet into his fist, his knuckles turning white. Quicker than I could hold it down, he yanked the sheet off of me and the mattress. I wrapped my arms around my knees and squeezed tight.**  
**

"Take the panties off."

He set his jaw as he unbuttoned the pajama top. I could see that the shirt pocket was embroidered with two letters: "B.P." My heart sank as I followed the shirt to the floor.**  
**

Brick Pollitt.***  
**

"I'm sorry I've made you so angry. I hate that you're like this, that you can't even stand the sound of my voice." My voice shook. "I want you to be like you were."**  
**

"Really?" He scrubbed his smooth cheeks with both of his hands until they turned red.**  
**

"Yes. I'd do anything."**  
**

"Anything?" He tilted his head to the side.**  
**

I nodded. Slowly, he climbed the mattress. Kneeling in front of me, he stroked my forearms and sore wrists, releasing some of the tension in my arms. Then, with a violent jerk, he forced my knees down to the bed and spread my legs.**  
**

"Edward, no. We have to talk."**  
**

Skimming his fingers along the tops of my panties, he breathed quickly with his eyes squeezed shut.**  
**

"Off."**  
**

"No."**  
**

His eyes flew open, and I saw the fury from that afternoon at the penthouse. Crimson surrounded green, nearly consuming it so that he was all fire. It was a sweltering fever. It was explosive. My heartbeat raced, and I began to sweat under my arms and between my thighs. I squeezed my pillow to my chest, at the bottom of my barrel. I was about to tip over but a part of me knew it was okay.**  
**

_This was what he needed. He needed my words tonight._**  
**

"No?" He grunted. He snatched the pillow from my chest and hurled it at the wall over my head. It was noiseless hitting the wall. I wasn't. As he bent over me, dragging me down by my ankles to the middle of the bed, I pleaded with him over and over.**  
**

"Please. Please. Please!" But I wasn't begging him to stop. I wanted more. More pain. More fury. More Edward.**  
**

The fury terrified me, but this was better than the easy smile. This was real.**  
**

On my back, I felt all of my muscles lock down, awaiting his attack. I covered my breasts, but he painfully wrenched my arms apart to clamp my wrists down. He was about to unleash every emotion he had since August in me tonight, and I didn't know how to protect myself. Nor did I want to.

He nudged my thighs with his left knee to spread them wider.**  
**

"Yes." He snarled. With a thunderous clap, his hands crashed on my hips. Along with my frightened shriek, his fingertips were like rakes as he pulled my panties.**  
**

"Yes." He breathed, clumping the material in his hands and throwing it to the floor like it was doused in acid. I quaked beneath him, my nerves on edge. It was as if I were floating on a rafter in the middle of the ocean. I was lost in my fear and blind to his thoughts. He became hazy over me, all reds and pinks. Fire and rage exploded over me. I forgot my name or why I existed. I became his fury and waste.**  
**

"Fuck!" Edward pushed his pajama pants down and kicked them off. His cock was high up and bobbed in a blur near his belly button. My mouth watered, and my pussy begged for more as he rubbed my clit with the tip. My thrusts were a knee-jerk reaction. I rolled my hips without a conscious effort as he entered me.**  
**

It was fast. I needed him to be faster. He was loud. I needed him to scream louder.**  
**

"Yes!" His scratchy baritone was as dense as oil. "Yes!" He grabbed my ankles, lifting them over his shoulders to begin his onslaught. "You'll never say no to me."

"_You're not gonna do this again.__" _I remembered his words from the afternoon in his apartment. _"__You're not gonna question me."_

I felt no pulses nor throbs nor eruptions of heat. He didn't glimmer above me. He was as black as night. My leaden blood melted and became black viscous venom oozing over each cell in my body. It galvanized until my heart stopped pumping. I could feel the fissure, then the crack down the middle, and gasped for air. I didn't smell his lust or his cologne or me. I smelled anguish and malice.**  
**

"Never say no to me. Never," he rasped. His voice was like rocks grinding together in my ear. He dumped the words into my lungs and filled them with the heavy stones, getting larger and heavier with every thrust. I struggled to breathe with my legs stretched up near my face. I felt like he was about to rip me in half with his pounding force.**  
**

"Yes." I sputtered. "Yes. Yes."**  
**

He locked my wrists together up over my head, demanding I not look at him. He cursed at me, hating that I liked how rough he was. And I did. I relished the pain. My punishment. This was karma balancing us. He should hurt me back. The more he made me hurt, the less he'd hurt. He had to give it all to me so that he could shake off the stranger's coil and be Edward again.

He harnessed his fury to fuel him, grappling for me, painfully twisting my nipples until I cried out. After flipping me over onto my knees, he went impossibly faster, like a vehement bull. A spent matador beneath him, I fought to find my bearings. He lifted my rubbery legs off the sheets, and his thrusts made the world as white as the center of the sun. He was close to pouring the rest of his fury inside of me.**  
**

When he slammed me down onto the bed, I lay spread-eagled with bated breath. I pulled my pillow up to my face, squeezing my eyes shut, remembering how he was. He would've been resplendent above me in the past. His eyes would shimmer, and I'd be able to see his light, brighter than the stars. Not now. Now, I didn't know who was behind me. After a shaky breath in my neck, he grabbed my waist to flip me onto my back.

Swinging my legs up on his shoulder, he drilled into me like I was made of putty. He bit his lip, fucking me faster. He had never felt like this before, like he was made of energy and could crush me into sand.

Everything tilted behind the returning red haze as he pulled out. When my ankles slipped out of his grasp, a shooting pain reverberated down my thighs as my heels landed on the bed. With his head back, he began to jerk off. He had to dispense more waste on my ravaged body. This was the penance I could not enforce.

He was gone already. I imagined him stoically walking out of my bedroom. I could hear the front door locks click in my mind, and the tingles fly all over my skin. The nausea made me raise my knees, and I thought I would vomit all over my sheets. I could already feel his cum on me: Torment. Disgust. Hatred. This was all of his turmoil that I couldn't bear but deserved.

Then, something changed.**  
**

He came.**  
**

And instead of the black ooze in my veins, I saw clear cum. In a thick film, it stuck to the skin on my stomach. Then, another shot of it. And another. It was shiny, as if it had its own source of light. It looked pure of any human malady, or viciousness, or fear.**  
**

When he sat back on his heels, he flexed his right hand. In my periphery, I saw him shake it.**  
**

"I'm sorry," he whispered, staring down at his cum on my stomach. We both stared. Some of it dipped into my belly button. "I'm sorry, Bella."**  
**

We remained still until his cum became dry flaky tracks up my ribs and into the coarse curls down my middle. My heart was beating squishy red blood again. The rocks became bubbles that I breathed out to breathe Edward in.**  
**

Woodsy cologne and something more familiar: sorrow.**  
**

I reached out to him as his eyes became shiny. They were wet with anguish and grief and frustration. He winced, sliding off the bed to the floor on his knees.**  
**

"Please don't go." I thought he was putting his pajamas back on, but he stood up and walked out of my room fully nude.**  
**

"Edward?" I called out hesitantly. I waited a few seconds before getting up off the bed. The room spun, and I immediately sat back down. I clutched my head, hearing the wooden floors in my hallway creak beneath his feet until he reached my doorway. He had a wet hand towel in his hands.**  
**

Tentatively, he walked to me. Then, he knelt down on the floor, which groaned beneath his weight, and wiped the cum off of me.**  
**

"You don't have to do this," I said in a rush. He flinched as if I had stricken him. Still, my words were a weapon. Why?**  
**

"I do."**  
**

When he finished up, the used towel fell to the floor with a thunk. Watching him walk over to the window, goosebumps climbing his back and shoulders, I pleaded silently with him to stay. Something happened when he came, and my body hummed with the possibility that this could be the beginning of the end of this torment for the both of us. He let me see his sorrow for the first time since August. If Carlisle had passed, then I had to help him cope with it.

At the window, he stretched his back. Rolling his neck around, I heard him sniffle. When I stood up, I caught him wipe his chin and cheek with the back of his hand.**  
**

"I'm here," I whispered. "Let me." On my tiptoes, I wiped the new tears that fell on his cheeks.

Clear. Pure.**  
**

"Let me be here for you, baby. Your dad may be gone. I'm so sorry he's gone. I'm so sorry, but I'm here. I'll never leave you."**  
**

His arms were folded across his chest, and his face was turned away from mine when the tears stopped. He was unreadable. It was worst than the viridian. The stranger returned but with no easy smile in sight.**  
**

"He has brain cancer," he muttered. "He won't live past Christmas." He pushed my hand away.**  
**

"No." I gasped. I had to lean back against my wall to catch my breath. It was as terminal as Ms. Evanson had told me in July, but she had said he was fine when she spoke to him. Then, Edward's words sunk in.**  
**

"Has? Christmas. He's alive? There's hope, then, right? They can remove the tumor, and he'll be okay."

I wanted my words to heal him, knowing I would suffer as a consequence. But his words. Oh, his words. They shredded me from spine to sternum.**  
**

"I was with him everyday for the last three months. He was weird when I got to L.A., but okay. By the time I left, he was unrecognizable." He sniffled again before continuing. "He'll be dead next month, but he's already gone." Then, he turned his placid face and looked down at me. "If I had been there earlier, I would've seen him as I remembered him, but you kept that from me. You and Emmett and that bitch, Alice." The familiar fury formed the ugliest contours on his withdrawn face. "Fuck! No! No, you kept that from_ him_." He slammed the wall above my head, rattling a picture frame off the nail. It crashed to the floor.

It was of me and my mom back in Phoenix. We were smiling, holding a trophy between us. I had won best costume for the second grade class as The Little Mermaid. Shards of glass littered the delight on our faces.**  
**

"You wanna do anything to make me happy again?" He laughed bitterly. "You wanna take it all away? You can't, Bella. You couldn't even tell me the truth and now you wanna save me? You're a liar, and I'll never forgive you for what you did."**  
**

He wiped a stray tear from his right eye, backing away behind me. When I turned around, he was picking up his wrinkled pajamas from the floor.**  
**

"Edward-"

He buttoned his shirt, then stopped, staring straight ahead into my lamp. "Stop speaking. I never want to hear another lie, another_ sound__,_ out of your mouth," he said this in a cool detached manner.**  
**

This couldn't be. I didn't believe in "never." I would suffer by his hand for as long as it took if it meant speaking to him once. No, I refused "never."**  
**

"Edward, please don't go."**  
**

He sneered at my words as he pulled on his boot on a bare right foot. Another sock left behind. With his hands in his hair, he crossed over to my dresser for his coat and scarf. His impenetrable silence cut me down into fragments. I gave him the only idea I had left.

If he couldn't talk to me, he could drown in me. "You touch me and everything else fades."_ I fade away. _"Every night, you've come here for something. You said you needed me last night. You need to forget all that's happened. Sometimes when you look at me, I feel like you can forget it all. I can't- I can't help Carlisle..." My voice wavered. "But I can help you forget. Give me everything you wanna forget."

I stood at my window, nude, with my arms down my sides, exposed and vulnerable for him because I had to prove to him that I was open, from now until forever. But he stood across the room, wrapping his scarf around his neck, layers of gray over the collar of his coat, sheathed, composed.**  
**

With long strides, he crossed my bedroom's threshold.**  
**

"Edward, please."**  
**

I heard the locks click open._ One. Two. Three._**  
**

"Edward!"_ Four. Five._**  
**

Then, he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

* * *

**A/N:**

***Brick Pollitt is the main character in **_**Cat on a Hot Tin Roof**_**, in which Edward's starring.**

**I wish these two were more normal sometimes. **

**I know the last couple chapters have been strange and things are unsettling. Please bear with me as they work their way through this. If you quit reading, I understand. Thank you for your time thus far.**

**ICYMI, here was the EPOV music video teaser for this chapter: wp *dot* me *forward slash* p1CUKY *hyphen* z4**

**Bye. :****(**


	41. Chapter 38 Darkseid

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :(**

**Keye, thanks for reading the first draft of this chapter and making so many great points. Second draft is so much better.**

**Melissa, Kelly, Cindy and Jea, thanks for being my sounding board.**

**Okay, here goes.**

* * *

**Chapter 3****8****- Darkseid**

**November 17, 2010**

_**Me: **__Edward, __you didn't come last night. Are you OK? __Please tell me you're ok. _

_Y__esterday, 1:07 p.m._

_**Me:**__I'm going to the penthouse. __You must__ be busy all day, but I'll wait for you._

_Y__esterday, 2:57 p.m._

_**Me: **__I baked you a cake and left it with Vincent._

_3:00 a.m._

_**Me: **__Edward please call me back. Please. Vincent said you never went home last night. Where are you?_

_7:03 a.m. _

_SMS Error_

_The wireless number you are trying to reach is not accepting messages at this time._

_**Me: **__I just need to know that you're okay._

_7:10 a.m._

_SMS Error_

_The wireless number you are trying to reach is not accepting messages at this time._

I flung my phone on my bed, screaming at it until I thought my vocal cords would burst.

He couldn't do this. God, I needed him. He needed me, so badly. He couldn't disappear. Not again.

I pushed my hair off my face, standing in the middle of my room, unsure of where to go. For the last two weeks, I had spent my days waiting for him. He sustained me. I thrived because I knew with absolute certainty he would be in my bed between midnight and one a.m. What was I without this certainty?

My skin felt like millions of centipedes were crawling all over since he left early Tuesday morning. My heart had stopped pumping blood and turned to ash when I didn't see him at the penthouse last night. His brutal words cut me down. He never wanted to hear my voice again.

"Never." I hated the term. I wouldn't let it apply to us. I might not deserve him, but I needed him. I was a monsoon without rain. Never would not apply. I knew this for a fact. He wouldn't have kept my things in the penthouse if it did. He would've had Vincent pack everything and mail it to me as soon as he returned from LA.

Never would not apply.

Facebook was no help, as usual. I tried to keep down the nausea rolling around the pit of my stomach.

Edward was fine. He wasn't hurt. He was fine. He was just avoiding me for some reason.

Still, the memory of him as Hamlet, pale and near death, played and replayed in my mind.

Scrolling down my newsfeed, a hot tear spilled from my eye and hit my cheek. It was a cheek Edward had kissed so sweetly only two days ago. I held the tear to it. He would kiss it again. Things would be like they were.

Another tear slid down my cheek as I read a message from Rachel, asking me to take care of Jake for her. He would arrive here tomorrow. Ugh, as if he'd need my help. He wasn't the one going through hell.

I trudged over to the bathroom to shower, my apartment silent from the windows to my mind. I had no dreams last night. I didn't hear Edward's voice. When I stepped onto the scummy porcelain, I heard the water spray the tiles. I needed to hear his voice. Rinsing the shampoo that he liked out of my hair, I decided today was the day when I'd scour the city to find my home, my life.

Edward was fine.

Thick saliva filled my mouth as the hot air in my stomach rose up my throat.

Suddenly, I heard Beethoven.

"Edward!" I swallowed the nausea, rushing into my room. I jumped onto my bed with my towel falling open to see a number I had tried calling numerous times before Edward's return. I held the phone in my hand, staring at the Facebook profile pic on the screen. It was of Alice and me at my birthday party.

I had promised Edward that I wouldn't talk to her, but I didn't want to leave things hanging as they were. I wouldn't speak to her after this, that was all. I would tell her I was too busy with school, which would certainly be the case next semester when I work on my thesis.

If I were to sever all ties with her, then it had to be a clean cut. This phone call would do it. This could be a cordial goodbye. I'd tie the loose ends and be done with no bad feelings.

Except for the fact that I had a lot of bad feelings. Without doubt, I knew that Jessica's accusation about Alice sleeping with Evans for a better grade wasn't just an accusation. It was the truth.

I tapped "Accept."

"Alice." I breathed.

"Hi Bella." Her fragile voice shook me up, mixing up my disappointment about everything she kept from me with worry.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm sick to death of that question. I'm fine." She sucked her teeth. " I know it's been a couple weeks since we've spoken. I... um, I wanted to say thanks for the party. For whatever reason you didn't come..." her voice wavered.

_It _was _a good reason._ "I'm so sorry I... didn't make it."

After a shaky breath, she continued. "Thank you for trying. I just wanted to call to tell you that."

"Oh. Well, Erik told me how upset you were."

"Really? Nah, I'm fine." She sounded a bit livelier. "I'm super busy now with all the holiday parties and finals coming up."

"Erik..." I frowned at the lavender flowers on my comforter. "He also told me about the internship."

"Yeah? What about it?"

"You asked your mom to give it to me last summer. Why'd you do that for me, Alice?"

"Because I could. It wasn't a big deal," she said in a matter-of-fact way. I rolled onto my back, covering my eyes. She lived on another planet, this girl.

"You knew how important it was to me." My heart hammered against my ribcage. "You even bought me the Xoom. It _was _a big deal."

"My mom liked you. She wouldn't've chosen you if you weren't qualified. I just gave her a nudge."

"Enough to open another spot for me?"

"That was her idea, not mine. Anyway, how's your class? Is Evans still being a prick?"

I cursed under my breath. I had to get back to Jessica about the presentation. "Class is... class." The mention of Evans made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. "Okay, I'm gonna ask you this question, and I don't want you to hate me."

"I could never hate you, Bella," she whispered. She sounded so sad. I couldn't have caused this. She had lived through worse with Jasper's death, and Edward's abuse. Maybe something else happened. What if it was Carlisle?

"Did something happen to Carlisle?" I held my breath.

"No, I don't think so," she stammered. I sighed, getting up on my knees. "Was that the question you thought would make me hate you?"

"No." I cleared my throat.

"Spit it out, Bella."

"I just... I know about you and Evans."

"What?" Her voice was as dull as the evening news in Forks.

"It's true, isn't it? He's-" I remembered our "Sex and the City" session the day after Halloween. Her ex was Richard. "Evans is Richard."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I sat back on my heels. "Oh, so he's not? You didn't have an affair with him or use him to get a better grade in class last year?"

"Will you listen to yourself?" Her voice was shrill like a whistle. "Where did you get this shit? Jessica?"

My voice caught in my throat. I couldn't believe this. She wouldn't admit the truth. She was gonna lie to me again. And I knew she was lying because on my way to the penthouse yesterday, I saw Evans kissing that blond student he'd been flirting with in the hall at the 59th St. subway platform. They scampered to the exit like rabbits in heat. It didn't even cross my mind how just because Evans was with that girl didn't mean that he was with Alice because as soon as they finished kissing, she put a green fedora on her shiny blond locks.

Alice had told me right after Halloween that Evans gave green fedoras to his "hookers." It was the only gift he gave them.

"Why're you lying to me?" I tried to keep my voice level, but it shook anyway. "After everything..."

"I'm not lying, Bella. I swear to God." She sounded so earnest.

"Alice, I'm not judging you. You can trust me, okay? I just wanna know the truth."

"The truth?" Her harsh laugh rose from the phone. "The truth is, I was the one who saved your life, and you threw me away like I was garbage! I saw you with him, Bella. I saw you with Edward when you were supposed to be with me."

My fingers trembled around the iPhone. Knots tied up in my stomach. "You saw us?"

"I gave you all that I had..." She began to say in a morose tone.

"You were spying on Edward and me?" I asked, baring my teeth. She knew Edward was back? That was why she didn't return my calls? That was really why she cried, not because I missed the lunch, but because I chose Edward over her.

"I was on my way to the library when I saw you in the subway station, touching him, almost kissing him!" Alice gagged. "Did you forget the blood? He put you in the hospital last summer, and you let him touch you _again_? Do you know how humiliating that was for me? I gave you more than I had given anyone else in my life, and you still chose him."

Her words hit me like a cannonball. They were so much like the lyrics to the song she'd quoted in her update a couple of days ago. Was I... I was her "no ordinary love"? I had cried for hours thinking of Edward after watching that video, and it turned out Alice was crying for me.

I hated how this conversation had dissolved, but there were so many lies. There was so much pain between us that I simply couldn't accept anymore. It had to end today, even if it was on bad terms.

"I should've left you on the floor," she spat. "Then, you would've known just how much he really loves you."

Tears welled up, and my throat stung. "I'm sorry I missed the lunch. I'm sorry that you're hurting. And I'm grateful for everything you've done to help me. I just thought we were better friends than this resentment you have towards Edward." I grazed my lower lip with my teeth. "Better than your lies."

"Better friends?" She snorted. "You're the one who keeps choosing him over me. Better friends?"

I hated how she kept making this about him. It made me think my earlier notion was right: I must've been a means to an end for her. She was trying to use me to get back at Edward. That video she posted meant nothing. The internship, the clothes, this phone, and the parties were all part of her game.

"You think you're better than Edward." I hopped off the bed to stand up. The floor was cold beneath my prickly heels. "You told me you'd never leave someone you'd love like he left me, as if that were the worst thing in the world. But Edward would never manipulate me like you did. You lied about needing my help for the final. You knew you were gonna pass that class. You lied about wanting to make things up with Edward, too. You'd never give ten grand to a guy who hurt you unless you were fucked up and playing games with me."

"I'm not the one who's in love with that bastard!" Her voice scalded my ear like acid.

"He was right about you from the beginning. I hoped you had gotten better. I thought you weren't that conniving little girl who lied to hurt others, but you still are. You're using me to get back at him. It's not gonna happen, Alice. I'm not gonna play your game."

"Now you're talking crazy!" She cursed with a guttural edge, sounding like a pitbull. "You're so fucking blind! When you see that asshole for who he is, do me a favor: don't call me."

"Gladly! Bye Alice!"

I hung up before she could respond. Squeezed the phone in my hand, I began to resent it. I wanted to throw it at the wall and destroy it, but couldn't. I needed it in case Edward called.

Alice saved my life. She gave me that internship, but I didn't know the first thing about her. How could she even call it love if her machinations brought us closer? She tried so hard to be this perfect friend, yet couldn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. She used me, and when Edward came into the picture, she thought she could take me away, as if I were a pawn in a chess match.

Her truths were revealed, despite all she did to cover them up with lies upon lies. And unlike Edward's, they weren't pure; they were mired in vengeance. I hoped one day she would see that she didn't have to play all these games to get what she wanted. Not everyone had agendas. If she really knew me, she would've seen that I wasn't like all those people in her life who wanted things from her. I just wanted the truth.

Pivoting on my heels, I counted all the contents of my room: the sheets, blankets, the t-shirts spilling out of my dresser, my blue panties on the floor from when Edward was here. Ninety percent of it didn't belong.

I wouldn't be able to scour every crevice of the city for Edward, not without getting all this shit out of here and off of my skin. Even this phone was a remnant.

Stroking the phone's screen, I decided to call Jessica. I dialed her number and regrettably got voicemail.

"Jessica, I'm so sorry. I had an emergency the last couple weeks. Family thing. Don't wanna get into it. But we can get Evans to reschedule the presentation for the first class after break, right? I hope you have time. And you were right about Alice. She lied to me. I'm naive. I know. I know. No, 'I told you so's' needed. I just wanna-" I sighed. "I wanna put her drama behind me. Anyway, I'll see you in class tomorrow."

I had no intention of going to class tomorrow, though. I had to find out if Edward was okay.

I had so much to do to be the girl he could trust again. No lies. No broken promises. So, for the second time in two weeks, I took a step outside. This time, I didn't have a cake in hand and optimism in my heart. I had a couple of humongous black garbage bags, sore arms, and my white shorts and yellow t-shirt billowing around my back in the chilly wind.

I lugged the bags a couple of blocks over to the Berean Baptist church on Bergen St., introducing myself to an older man. Welcoming me with a cup of hot coffee, he told me his name was Pastor Tyler.

"Thank you so much for these clothes."

"And shoes and sheets and a comforter," I said. I downed the rest of the coffee, then rubbed my arms. His gray eyebrows rose and fell slowly with a question in his eye. Their query: Why was this young girl half naked on a chilly November morning?

"I need a favor, Pastor."

He placed his large warm hand on my shoulder, his pinky ring cold on my skin.

"Are you alright?" His breath smelled like decay, but his velvety voice soothed me. I hunched my shoulders from the weight of his question. It wasn't a question I was used to anymore. I had forgotten how to shrug it off and act like I was okay. So, I told him something that had emptied my heart since August and hurt to hear aloud.

"I'm lost. I don't know what to do without him, Pastor Tyler."

"You don't have to figure it out yourself. That's why we're here." He let go of me to clasp his hands in front of his big belly. I shook my head as the dread stretched and climbed up my throat. Of course he would think I was talking about God.

"I don't think you can find him."

"Bella Swan, you're lost in search of a man who you think I don't know." He rubbed his bald brown head. "I do know him. I've known men like that for thirty years, men who leave bruises on women who think they love them," he said, pointing to my right wrist and thigh. Both were blue and black with reminders of Edward. "These women remained lost when they continued searching for these men, but their men never wanted to be found."

I should've been insulted and left. I preferred some speech about God. Edward was _not _one of those abusive men. I probably could've defended him to the Pastor, too, but it would mean nothing. His opinion didn't matter. Instead, I told him what he must've been dying to say since I, a stranger to his congregation, walked through the door.

"So, you think if I lose my man and find your God, I'll find myself?"

He smiled at me in a knowing way. "I'm not trying to sell you a car, young lady. You were the one asking for direction."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Thank you. Thanks for listening. I just don't think this is the way to go right now."

His amused brown eyes became somber. "You know that you don't need those." He pointed at the bruise on my thigh. "You can donate them to us just like you donated your clothes and sheets. Both are better between these walls."

"Umm... Thank you. I'm fine. And... these bruises are mine to keep. There's nothing to talk about." I knew what helped me get better, and he transcended these walls. "I really need that favor, though."

The Pastor promised his door was always open, but I respectfully declined.

Ten minutes later, I pushed through the tall, heavy white doors in a brown cotton hoodie and blue jeans covering my bruises. Whoever owned the sweater before was three sizes bigger than I was, but the jeans fit like leggings, thankfully. They both smelled like mothballs. I wanted to get more clothes but didn't want to be a freeloader. I wasn't homeless. Those people needed the clothes more than I did.

The local department store where everything smelled like plastic had clothes. I wanted to buy another sweater, at least, but my debit card declined. When I looked up my checking account balance at the decrepit ATM machine, near the register, I had only eight dollars. This was on top of the dollar I had on my Metrocard. I had spent all of my money on those panties, panties Edward didn't even like.

My throat burned, and the bitter wind spread my tears down my sodden cheeks when I hit the corner of Bergen and Utica. My apartment building was in my sights. The train station wasn't.

When I got to the apartment, I pulled on a couple of Edward's discarded socks and wrapped my blanket around me.

My blanket. Edward's socks. A stranger's hoodie.

***Darkseid***

November 18, 2010

I had no dreams last night because I couldn't sleep. My body was recovering from Edward's holds on me, aching in every possible cell. I felt like I couldn't get out of bed even if someone told me the apartment was on fire.

Pulling my phone from under my blankets, I checked Facebook and my texts for the fifth time that morning.

Alice's status update was friggin weird, and I didn't bother reading into it.

**Brandon, Inc.**

Swans will fly.

about five seconds ago · Like · Comment

Was it a threat? She was referencing me, obviously, but I could give a rat's ass if she was. What could she possibly do to me? Ruin me? As if I wasn't already? I couldn't possible go to a darker place. I just needed to get my mind off of her. She was an unnecessary waste of very necessary brain space.

Still nothing from Edward, but Jessica got back to me.

_**Jessica: **__Fine. Sorry about your fam. Dec 2nd is fine but can't do any other dates. __Hope to see __u in c__lass __later  
12:03 p.m._

I sent her "okay" and hit send, shutting my eyes. I could've told her I wasn't going to see her in class but didn't want to see a reply text from her asking questions. I had no excuses for her.

I felt like little sadists were ripping my muscles apart just about every time I moved an inch. I fell into a fitful sleep a few minutes later, ignoring the way my stomach grumbled. When I woke up, it was dark out, and my phone chimed from somewhere beneath the blanket I folded beneath my cheek.

"Edward." Digging beneath my blanket, I pulled out my phone and found a strange number. I'd have to change this ringtone for his number only and use the standard for everyone else.

"Hello?" I had cotton mouth and barely got the word out.

"Bells?" It was Jacob._ Why... __O__h wow__!__ He was in town __to record his CD._

"Jake?"

"Yeah." Jacob chuckled. "Am I calling at a bad time? Thought you'd be happier to hear from me."

"No. Not a bad time. I- I am." I was happy, just not as much as he wanted me to be. "I just. I'm busy with an assignment right now."

"Oh sorry. Are you home, though? I got a surprise for you."

"Yeah, I am." I sat up with a slouch. "What's the surprise?"

"I'm outside. Let me up."

My eyes bulged as I stared at Edward's mismatched socks on my feet. _He couldn't be. What the hell?_

"Umm, can you give me a second?"

"Yeah. But get your ass down here. It's fucking cold."

"Uh, okay."

I hung up. Jake couldn't be here. Jake could _not _be here right now. God, there were too many questions he'd ask me. There were too many things to keep from him. I didn't have the will to do this now.

Suddenly, my phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Yeah. Why'd you hang up on me?" He laughed. It was such an effortless laugh. I hadn't heard a sound like that since I had been at the penthouse with Edward.

"Because I'm coming down to get you. Gimme a second."

"You said that a second ago, and I'm still here."

"Bye Jake." I hit "End Call."

_What the fuck am I gonna do? _

My bedroom looked like a mausoleum, and I smelled rancid after not showering since early yesterday morning. Hobbling over to the living room, I saw my iPad on the coffee table, and the empty bag of organic popcorn Alice had brought the last time she was here. Even if I threw the bag away, Jake would wonder about why I didn't have sheets on my mattress. And when I wouldn't have an answer or attempt a lie, he'd see right through me.

Jake couldn't come in here. That was all. As long as he was in New York, we would have to meet elsewhere. And if he asked me to stay here, then I'd refuse him. If Edward came back tonight for me, Jake couldn't be here.

I grabbed my keys and wallet and unlocked the door. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. _

"_You're a liar, and I'll never forgive you for what you did."_

I snatched my breath back before I lost it and locked the door behind me. This time, from the outside, things sounded different. The way the clicks echoed down the hall quieted Edward's voice. I had to keep it together. Jake couldn't see me so frazzled. He couldn't see me break down. I was always stronger than he was. If he saw me fracture, we'd have to talk about Edward, and I could not bear it.

When I got downstairs, Jake was walking in through the front door. A couple of tall black men with black coats and baseball caps let him in. Jake pinched the tips of his ears, which he liked to do when they were cold.

"Bella." He grinned from ear to ear and dropped his duffel bag to the floor.

"Jake." I couldn't believe it. He looked exactly the same. Everything about him was the same. His hair was the same tapered cut, parted at the right side. He was still so big. He about filled the hallway with his wide shoulders. His white teeth gleamed as his full lips spread into a warm smile.

I thought I couldn't bear a talk, but I couldn't bear his expression. His face conveyed what I hadn't seen or felt in months. He looked content.

I couldn't hold it in any longer and began weeping, my voice soaring across the stale lobby air like a gust of wind.

"Hey. Hey, come on now. I'm not famous, yet. Save your tears for when my CD goes platinum."

I covered my face with my hands, the tears dripping down my chin. When I felt his strong arms around me, I fell forward and gasped. He was so cold. He was as cold as Edward used to be before I moved into the penthouse. He used to feel like ice if we spent a day apart. Jake was just as cold, but his hug wasn't the same.

Jake's nervous laughter stopped and started as he patted my back. His Axe cologne enveloped me, reminding me of when he'd try a new song for me late nights in my room or we'd play "Grand Theft Auto Vice City" all day until we passed out on his couch. All these old memories overshadowed the new ones. I was flooded with the sensations of them. I could still hear his voice cracking when I first met him. After puberty, he couldn't hit the high notes like he used to. There were times when I'd make his Jacob's Friesapalooza for him, eat it all myself because I was so hungry, and make another pan-full just for him. My mouth watered at that memory.

Every moment I'd spent with Jake in Forks had been my deliverance from the crap my classmates and my dad put me through. I probably wouldn't have applied to NYU if Jake hadn't been there to cheer me on. He was my rock. He was my stability. And a part of me wished this would be true today, when I felt like I was so close to floating away.

Nothing was real. Alice lied to me, and I didn't care about school worth a damn. The only pure force in my life blocked me... or could be gravely injured. Jake's presence should've set me right. The glint in his dark brown eyes when he saw me should've been enough to ease me. However, neither the memories nor his presence made me feel better. I was still empty, and nothing filled me. I was an unmoored visitor without a map of this land. I had no idea how to speak this language.

"You're so skinny, Bella. Jeez." He patted my side after we pulled away and breathed through his mouth. "I thought you looked weird in your pic from September, but you look worse now. Is it 'cause of that chick you tagged in your FB pic? Brandon?"

I shook my head, then lowered it to the floor. "I've been sick."

Quickly, he backed off to his bag near the door. "Whoa! What? With what?" He pinched his nose with his gloved right hand. "Dude, no wonder you smell like Mr. Clearwater's fish after he forgot it in the trunk of my dad's car for a couple days."

I frowned as I wiped snot off my upper lip.

"And I'm an asshole. There, I said it so you don't have to. Look, I can't get sick till after New Years. I'm gonna be in the studio. Damn, why didn't you tell me?" He lifted his coat over his his nose. Bending down for his bag, he glanced up at the stairs. "Your apartment isn't infested, is it?"

I couldn't believe I was about to do this to my friend.

"Yes. It's disgusting up there. You're gonna have to stay in a hotel."

"Dammit Bella!" He let go of the lapel on his coat.

"Sony gave you money for it, right?"

He grimaced. "No, because I told them I had a place to stay till Christmas. You better thank God that I saved all the money from my advance. Do you know how much it'll cost to book a room tonight?" He huffed. "Let's go."

"Go where? I can't go anywhere. I told you I'm sick."

He pointed. "So why are you holding your wallet? You were about to go somewhere."

I nodded. "The corner store for some medicine."

"You look like you'll need more than that. So, come on. We're gonna get something to eat then we'll come right back here so you can sleep."

"Jake-"

"I'll carry you if you're not up to it." Dammit, he would. He totally would. "So, where can we get some really good chicken soup?"

A cab ride and a half an hour later, I had so much chicken soup that I thought I'd cry and sweat it out. Jake was one of the most persistent people I knew. Usually, we contested every little thing until eventually I won. Arguing over food was not how I wanted to spend the night with my old friend, though. Tonight, I was starving, and any soup at the slow food restaurant, Applewood, was always good. I even had some of Jake's ribs when I was done.

Throughout the meal, he would scrutinize me without a word. Jake didn't like to eat and talk. So, when he chewed the last piece of meat, I braced myself for what he'd clearly been dying to say.

"Did you hurt your knee or something? You were walking funny when we got out of the cab."

"Oh, you noticed." Blushing, I rubbed my knee a bit even though it didn't hurt at all. "I tripped yesterday. Fell down half a flight." I shrugged. "The meds made me woozy."

"Oh." He wiped his hands with the cloth napkin. "So, you gonna take that hood off or what? I wanna see your haircut."

"Um, it's been a while. It looks really terrible now. I didn't even wash it this morning." I drew circles on the white tablecloth, blushing. I couldn't care less about my hair. If I took off my hood, he'd see all the crimson hickeys on my neck.

Jake tilted his head to the right and gave me that damn impatient look.

"I'll show you tomorrow, alright?" He tapped his fork on the table.

"Actually, I don't know what my schedule'll be like tomorrow. I might be in the studio all day until the 22nd. Are you gonna come home for Thanksgiving?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing."

"You know you can always stay with us. Charlie won't mind and Dad and Rachel wanna see you."

"It'd be nice to see them."

"So, you'll come?"

I shook my head, watching the waiter come with the huge slice of cake, holding his curved hand around the fiery wick of a long white candle.

"Jake, you didn't."

"Hey, I told you we'd celebrate your birthday when I got here, didn't I?" His self-satisfied grin and puffed up chest was so obnoxious. It made me giggle, nonetheless. I wasn't expecting a celebration today. I didn't know how to react to the surprise. I hadn't been celebrated since September.

As the cake slid across our table in front of me while an empty plate was placed carefully in front of Jake, the waiter said, "Happy Birthday" in this southern accent that reminded me of Alice. He had a Hispanic accent when he took our order, now it was southern. He must've been an actor. I furrowed my brow, trying to swallow down tears.

I leaned my chin on my right hand and blew out the candle. Along with Jacob, the waiter clapped. He smiled down at me, then headed off, but Jake frowned.

"Dude, your face just turned darker than Darkseid's." He picked up the candle and licked the end like he was twelve. "What's wrong? I thought you liked red velvet?" He lowered the candle to the table.

"I love red velvet. It'll always be my favorite." We used to get the heebie jeebies whenever Darkseid was the villain in an episode of "Superman," our favorite cartoon in high school. He was the manifestation of evil and terror; he was utterly void of compassion. Reason couldn't sway him. He was after one thing: destruction. "I just don't wanna go to Forks."

"Dad and Rachel wanted to come, but they have to work at the garage." I noticed he didn't mention Leah's name. "They can't afford time off, not yet. Not till I get my millions!" he grinned, cracking his knuckles. I frowned.

"Sorry sorry. I know you hate when I do that." He didn't even wait for me to take a bite. He sunk his knife into the moist two-layered cake and placed it on his plate. I guess he wanted me to keep my "germs" on my side of the table. Taking a huge chunk, like half, he scarfed down his cake.

"But you've been weird even _before _I mentioned Forks. Since I got here you just agreed to basically everything I asked you to do. Well, except let me in your apartment. You wouldn't even let me drive that beat up piece of crap pick-up truck when I begged you to borrow it last Christmas. That used to be _my _truck for fuck's sake! And the crying in the lobby like you just saw Jesus. What the hell was that about?"

I stared down at the cake, the crimson reminding me of Edward's eyes the last time he came over. He was so tired. He was so disgusted.

"Ah, dammit, Bella. What's wrong? Talk to me."

When I looked up, Jake was poking crumbs along the plate with his finger and staring at me. Worry lined his forehead and the corners of his mouth.

"I'm just tired. This semester's kicking my ass."

"I thought you only had one class?"

_Dammit. __He shouldn't know my business. He should be worrying about his own._

"It's- I do. It's a tough project, though. But enough about me. If I recall, you were supposed to bring Leah to this trip. Where is she?"

He scowled, then licked his thumb of the crumbs. "Broke up with her."

"What?" I sat back in my seat, stunned.

He cut into my cake and ate it. While his mouth was full, he said, "She cheated on me with Paul."

"Again?"

"Bella."

"God, I'm sorry. I didn't know." I reached out for his hand to comfort him, but he cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Sorry?" He turned his hand around and grasped mine. "Whatever sickness you have, it's bad. And I have a feeling chicken soup can't cure it. What's going on with you?"

"No-"

"Don't say 'nothing.' You've been waiting for me and Leah to break up for what? Five years? No, 'I told you she was a bitch, Jake?' I even had a comeback for that." He pouted.

"I just know how hard it must be to break up with someone."

Jake peered at me. "_You_ know? Since when?"

"I mean." My face got hot. "I can relate. I've had my heart broken before by a couple of jerks last year."

"Yeah, well, you weren't in love with them. You can't _know _what it feels like when someone you love betrays you with your friend who turned out to be a total dick."

I pulled my hand back and onto my lap so that he wouldn't see it tremble. Then, I lowered my head so he wouldn't see tears well up my eyes.

"Bells, come on. Bella, what's going on?"

I shook my head and cleared my throat. When I lifted my head, I felt a tear fall, but that release was enough to keep the rest at bay.

"I'm just glad you're here. I'm really happy, Jake." I gave him a watery smile with my chin up and a quiet sniffle.

"I am, too. Dude, whatever it is, you can tell me. You know I can get you right out of any funk you're in."

I nodded, sitting on my hands. "Yeah, I know. But you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. You just have to finish your CD so that you can make millions."

He stabbed his fork into the rest of my cake. "Damn right. I'm gonna win that bet. There's no way you'll write that article before I get a song on the radio, now. Hehehehe."

I laughed at him and covered my mouth. It was a strange sound. I hadn't laughed since I watched "Sex and the City" with Alice.

Jake's eyes lit up. "Hey, I don't know why you're laughing at me. I'm the one recording a CD. You just did an internship at The New Yorker. You won't be laughing next year when my song plays on the radio." Suddenly, he dropped his fork, and his mouth went slack. "Unless... Don't tell me they let an _intern_ publish an article!"

I tried to keep my mood lifted for him as I said the next few words. "No, I'm laughing because of your laugh. I haven't heard it in a while." He bit his lower lip and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, which made me laugh again. "But I lost the internship."

He gaped at me like two heads that looked like Charlie grew out of my neck. "Lost? You've never lost anything in your life."

"Yeah, well, I lost that. So, I guess you're gonna win that bet after all."

"Whoa whoa whoa! What happened? And why didn't you tell me? Damn, you've wanted to work there since you got to New York? And you got fired? How?"

"Long story," I said with a sheepish grin. My summer came back to me. The days before and after I lost the internship were rough because Liam had just died, Emmett had put a strain on my relationship with Edward, and he didn't get the Macbeth audition. Nonetheless, they were good days. Edward had asked me to move in with him, he had tended my knees, and he had told me his future was inside of me. We'd get there again. Edward would return and our future together would become more certain. I just couldn't share this with Jake until then.

Edward was fine.

"I love long stories. You can start now and tell me the rest on the plane ride to Forks."

"Jake-"

He put his hand behind his left ear and leaned forward. "Did I just hear, 'Yes, Jake, I'm coming home for Thanksgiving. I'm buying a plane ticket tomorrow'? Awesome Bells."

"Jake, it's not happening."

"You're such a pig, you know that?"

"Oy." I pursed my lips, fighting back a grin. I felt like we were back at Al's Diner. He was teasing me. He always ordered another slice of red velvet cake after claiming I was the one who scarfed down the first slice. He did this to change the subject, as if the tactic would win an argument.

"I'm gonna have to order more cake. You ate all of mine."

I laughed again as he called the waiter in this mushy Hispanic/southern accent. When the cake was carefully placed down by the overly pleasant waiter, Jake muttered, "Pig," and I bust out laughing.

"Sorry, he's not talking about you," I told the waiter when he shot darts at him with his hazel eyes. "He's teasing me. Sorry."

Jake shook his head and in the middle of chomping down on a huge piece, he looked me up and down, trying to figure me out. But I wasn't about to talk tonight, not when I was laughing again.

Just like when he had begged to borrow my truck, I wouldn't budge. There was no way he'd get me to go back to Forks with him. I might have lost my competitive streak, but I would never step foot in that town again if I could help it. I might as well spend Thanksgiving with Alice.

Jake bought a large order of chicken soup for me to go and a another slice of cake for himself. Then, despite my refusal, he hailed a cab and brought me home.

"You'll waste all your money if you keep taking cabs around this city," I said after getting out. He scooted over to me as I shut the door and leaned my hip against the side of the car.

"And what? Take the subway? Pshaw. That's not how millionaires roll, Bells."

"Hardy har. You haven't even recorded your first song, yet, millionaire," I said with a poke to his shoulder. My finger met solid muscle. His eyes lit up. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"You're smiling again. Keep it up."

I thanked him with my cheeks ablaze.

"I'll get you laughing again, don't worry. That hoodie will come off, and you'll tell me why you're in such a sour mood." He pressed the button to roll his window up before I could respond. He was headed for the W Hotel in Union Square. Sony hooked him up after all.

Back upstairs in the darkness, I pulled on another mismatched pair of Edward's socks and hopped into bed.

Edward was fine.

The chant wouldn't make it true, but it was better than thinking the worst had occurred.

My cell phone was an arm's length away; I put it on vibrate tonight. My eyelids were heavy, and I couldn't stop yawning. I felt weird. I was full. I couldn't remember the last time I was full.

As soon as I shut my eyes, I heard my phone vibrate.

_Edward._

Reaching out for the phone, I squinted as the screen lit up and read:

_Ben C._

"Hello?"

"Hi, Bella. I'm sorry I'm calling you so late, and this is gonna sound fucking lame after what happened last summer."

"No, it's fine. I understand why you did what you did. You were right. I should've been honest with Edward from day-"

"Yeah, that's all good," he quickly interrupted. "Look, have you seen Edward?"

My heart flipped. I threw my blankets off and sat up.

"No." I swallowed the frog in my throat. "Did he say he was coming to see me?" _Oh God._

"He was supposed to be at rehearsal a few hours ago but never showed. We had to use his understudy, and I fucking loathe working with the guy. Shit!" He cursed again, then continued. "You're not just covering for him, are you? I know he's been seeing you again."

"How-"

"It doesn't matter how. Is he there or not?" His voice became so loud, I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

"No, no." I stammered. "I haven't heard from him at-"

"I called everyone else," he rambled on as if he didn't hear me. "I thought it might've been something with his dad, but he would've told me if he had to leave. Still, I called Emmett, and he said their dad was fine."

"S-so then Edward's fine." But even I didn't believe he was. Missing a rehearsal didn't seem like him. What if...

_No what ifs. Edward is fine._

"If he calls you, tell him he needs to call me ASAP. Jane's been a fucking bitch lately, and today she was nearly impossible to work with. You got all that? Great. Call me. Bye."

He hung up.

I stared at the phone as it got blurry from the tears building up and redefining when they fell from my cheeks. The screen dimmed and went black as Ben's words sunk in.

Jane was in the play.

Those _were _her chocolates all those nights, not Ben's.

Edward came here. He was with me, but he wasn't.

He didn't need me like he had said.

He needed her. He was with her.

That's why he had said "never."

But even _she _didn't know where Edward was. No one did, according to Ben.

Wherever he was, he wouldn't call me. He hated the sound of my voice. He blocked me. The first person he would call would probably be Jane.

_He will call her because he's alive. He'll come back._

Hot tears stung my eyes. My phone became blurry again, and my blanket became damp. It stuck to my cheek as I fought for sleep.

I wasn't full. I would never be full again.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Thank you all for sticking with this. It really means a lot to me. **

**Bye :(**


	42. Chapter 39 Swans will fly

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :(**

**Thank you readers. Thank you prereaders and my lovely beta. Thank you. **

* * *

**Chapter 3****8****- ****"Swans will fly" **

**November 21, 2010**

Jacob hadn't been kidding when he said he'd be in the studio all day and night until Thanksgiving. I'd barely had a chance to chat with him over the last few days. Instead, I got texts reminding me that we'd go to a movie on the 21st no matter what I was doing._ Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows _was in theaters and he had a tiny window of opportunity to watch it with me. His producers were Potter fans, too. Plus, he was going back home the next day- "we" according to him- and didn't wanna see it in Port Angeles when he could see it in the gigantic IMAX theater in Times Square.

_**Jake: **__The tickets are HOW MUCH?!_

_1:10 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Me: **__20. The seats are really nice though._

_1:10 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Jake: **__Seats? The tix better come with butterbeer & a wand. Movie tix should NOT cost 20 bux._

_1:31 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Me: **__We don't have to see it in the IMAX theater tho._

_1:32 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Jake: **__Oh yeah we do. _

_1:49 p.m. November 19, 2010_

_**Me: **__OK, what about if we see a matinee?_

_1:50 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Jake: **__Now THATS What Im talkin bout. And don't worry. I'm buying_

_2:10 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Me: **__No you don't have to. I can manage._

_2:10 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Jake: **__No u cant. I got u. I'll call u with my CC # tmrw. About to get in the booth._

_2:58 p.m. November 19, 2010_

_**Me: **__Okay._

_3:00 p.m., November 19, 2010_

_**Jake: **__ur up for going out again right? Ur better?_

_3:30 p.m. November 19, 2010_

_**Me: **__Yeah, I'm fine. I'm better._

_3:30 p.m., November 19, 2010_

Jake was busy with his CD. He was so busy, he only slept in his hotel once. He told me the couches at the studio were better than the ones at home. And yet, even with little sleep and even less time, he still sent me texts to ask how I was doing and scheduled a movie date with me today.

I hadn't heard from Edward since Ben had called late Thursday night. He might have been in trouble over the last three days because I hadn't heard from Ben either, even though I left both of them messages. This brought on more dreaded sleepless nights.

I woke up this morning, glad to get my mind off him and on to those wizards. As I warmed the chicken soup Jake had bought me, I thought it was time to tell him everything- about Alice _and_ Edward. He was my best friend; he'd understand. It was that simple with him. I made things so complicated by lying. I reacted like Edward would have. I couldn't do that to Jake. He'd get it. He cared.

I'd share everything but the bruises.

I was so hungry. I tapped my spoon against the counter, glaring at the neon green numbers of the microwave, anxious to hear the ding. At thirty seconds, my phone played "Tremble" beside me; Beethoven only played for Edward now. On the screen, "Ben C." appeared.

"Hi, Ben."

"Good news! Edward's back." He sounded like the world had been lifted off of his shoulders.

"Good." I sighed. "That's good." I was relieved he hadn't gotten hurt, but this fleeting emotion was replaced by confusion. He blocked my number. He didn't come back to _me _first.

"Hello? Didn't you hear me? I didn't just save $5 on your car insurance. I told you Edward's back."

"Yeah, and I told you that's great. Did you need anything else?"

"You're not as relieved as I thought. Did you already know?"

"No, Ben. I haven't spoken to him since last week. He's alright, isn't he?" The ding of the microwave was heavy in my stuffy kitchen. When I clicked open the door, steam hit my face, forcing me to back away. It was too hot. The microwave at the penthouse would've warmed it just right.

"If you call the hell he's been through the last few months 'alright,' yeah."

Scrubbing my cheeks with my knuckles, I asked, "So he didn't even tell you why he was gone for three days?"

"No, he just showed up at rehearsal last night, brooding and moody as fuck like he always is. It adds to his performance, lucky for him. Hell, lucky for me. His understudy's a hack who mumbles his lines like he's on Valium."

"Do you think it had to do with Carlisle, and he didn't wanna say?"

"No, he talks to me about his dad all the time."

"Well, good for you!" As if I needed to hear how Edward confided in him more than me right now. Perching the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I grabbed a hand towel.

"Whoa, what's your problem? You on your period or what?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" I dropped the towel on the counter to grab the phone again. "_I_ have a problem? I'm not the one who went AWOL. You should ask your friend what _his _problem is."

Ben sighed. "Well, that's why I'm calling you."

I pulled the piping hot bowl out, placing it carefully on the counter. "You thought _I'd_ know his problem?" I was close to screeching and toned down my voice. "He's never talked to me, even when we were living together."

"He's been really stressed. Cut him some slack. Don't you think he deserves it after everything?"

"I _know_, Ben. Dammit!" I stabbed my bowl with my spoon, the thick liquid splashing against the sides. "I know I was wrong, and that he's hurting. But he never lets me help him, and he treats me like I'm the enemy."

"I told you he doesn't forgive liars, didn't I?"

"It wasn't malicious, Ben. Unlike that other woman in his life, I'm not a goddamn bully."

"Don't get me started on that ho. She's like a gnat pumped full of super gnat powers. Can't get rid of her."

"Jesus Christ! She _is _playing Maggie?"

"It's hell, Bella. I'd prefer eating the tar that Prego makes for the rest of my life to playing opposite her in this play!"

"Then kick her out. Fuck!" The scent of the soup made my stomach roll, and I turned away, walking toward the fridge.

"It's complicated," he said slowly.

"You don't know how much I hate that godforsaken phrase! Explain it."

"Where do you get off?" His voice exploded from the receiver. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Rah! You know this is bad for you and Edward. You gotta get rid of her, Ben."

"It's not possible right now."

"You're gonna regret it. You already do, don't you?"

He groaned. "With every line exchanged, I regret it. But it's what I have to suffer through for this role of a lifetime. Anyway, thanks for your help."

Back at my counter, I stared at my soup. It wasn't as steamy anymore. In a couple more minutes, it would be ready.

"But I didn't help, did I? You're still as clueless as to why he left as you were when you called."

"It's all good. I'll drag it out of him tonight. Bye, Bella."

After he hung up, I glanced down at the wisps of steam rising, flung the spoon into the sink, and put the bowl back into the fridge.

How could he just leave without a word to anyone? To me? I thought I meant more to him. After everything he told me and everything I willingly accepted from him, he dropped me like I was garbage, _again. _To top his effed up behavior even more, he was working with _Jane_ after he swore he'd never let her play Maggie. He should've known better.

Why was I even thinking about a man who blocked me on his cell? He was fine and I did enough worrying for the both of us. Meanwhile, he never even noted how much weight I'd lost.

Then again, I never pointed out his weight loss, either.

Around ten, the intercom for the door downstairs buzzed, irritating my ears. As I dragged my feet to my front door, I hoped it wasn't Jake and hoped it was Edward. Then again, Jake would've called me if he were coming. This intercom seldom worked. It was a miracle it worked this morning.

I pressed the top white button. "Hello?" I pressed the bottom white button to hear the response.

"UPS. Please come down for your delivery," a woman's voice snapped through the airwaves.

I cocked my eyebrow. What could it be? In September, my packages were delivered to my door. Why didn't she come up this time? And who was this package from?

"Coming down, now." I pressed the black button to open the door for her.

I found the plastic-haired woman from my birthday standing outside when I got to the door. She was chewing gum, popping bubbles between her teeth.

"Bella Swan?" She was standing in front of about two huge boxes, nearly as tall as she was.

I nodded, peeking over her shoulder at the box behind her back. Upon closer inspection of the postage on the side, I read, "Edward Cullen 880 5th Ave. PHE New York, NY 10065."

My fingers became numb, and my heartbeat raced as she handed me the electronic signature device and asked me to sign with the most benign look on her face.

"I have to take these up to my apartment, huh?" I asked, pressing the plastic pen hard to the device. Both were sticky. After giving them back to her, I rubbed my hands on the back of my jeans.

She blew a tiny bubble with her painted eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Good luck with that." Abruptly, she turned around and walked to her truck, which was double parked down the street.

I stared down the boxes. I had a hunch that she wouldn't deliver anything else from 880 because this looked to be everything I had brought with me to the penthouse last June.

My stomach lurched, hunger pangs wracking my body. I pushed both boxes into the lobby, which zapped all of my energy. I couldn't leave these boxes here because they'd get stolen in twenty minutes.

After a couple of minutes, I took a deep breath, rubbing my hands on the front of my jeans this time. Then, one by one, flight by flight, I dragged the boxes up to the fifth floor. By the time I kicked them to my door, it was 11:00. I had to leave to meet Jake soon.

I unlocked the door and pulled them inside my living room. All the muscles that hadn't ached in the last couple of days ached once more.

I shook the hoodie at the collar to cool me down a bit. Wiping my brow, I stared down the boxes again.

"It's okay, Bella." I didn't want what was in there to be in there, but there was no way anything else could be there.

When I opened the box closest to me, seeing everything from my pillows to my old shampoo, I dropped onto my living room floor and breathed.

I could smell him. Even on my clothes, I smelled him.

Here he was, but wasn't. Bits of him were in my hands, but not the man. After grabbing a pillow and breathing him in for a couple of minutes, I tossed it back in the box. It didn't belong here. It belonged in the penthouse. I wouldn't use any of this stuff until they were back where they belonged.

An hour later, I hurried to the AMC theater to meet Jake. It was eleven a.m., and there was already a line for the 12:30 show. He got us a good spot, though. When I spotted him leaning against the wall on the third floor, I called out his name. As he waved me over, "Tremble" began to play on my hip. It wasn't Ben this time.

_From:"Facebook"_

_To:"Bella Swan"_

_Subject: Erik sent you a message from Facebook._

_Bella! Dammit where are you?_

"You aren't one of those losers who eats, sleeps, and shits with their phones, are you?" Jake asked, pulling at my hood. Edward had sent all of my clothes but wearing them was like hammering nails into a coffin. This stranger's hood, hand-washed and "Mountain Fresh," would suffice.

I stepped out of Jake's reach, pulling it back up before it could fall again. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Deal." I opened my Facebook app and saw twenty notifications and a couple of messages. "What the hell?"

Jake snatched the phone from me.

"Hey!"

"I don't have to remind you how long I've been waiting to see this movie, do I? No interruptions, Bells." He slid the phone into his coat pocket.

"I won't turn it on while the movie's playing. Come on, give it back."

When the first few chords for "Tremble" played again, he immediately pulled it out, pressed the button at the top and slid his finger across the screen to turn it off.

"Jake!" I folded my arms across my chest and tapped my foot expectantly. He folded his arms, pumped his biceps, and furrowed his eyebrows. He had his intimidating stance that worked on everyone else but me and he knew it, so he dropped his hands into his coat pockets.

"Bella, you can clobber me all you want. I told you, nothing's gonna stop me from watching this movie." He was whining like a little baby.

"I swear to God if you don't give me my phone-"

"Idle threats. Good stuff, Bells. I'll go get some snacks." He backed away for the escalator. "Sour Patch Kids and nachos, right?"

A part of me wanted chocolate, a huge part. Then again, the chocolate here wouldn't be the same. So instead, I said, "You're never gonna hear the end of this, Black. Ever."

As he ran down the escalator like a frightened puppy, I rubbed my head through the hood. He was gonna get it. He needed to understand we weren't in high school anymore. What got my gears grinding, though, was Erik's message. Why did he want to know where I was? I sure as hell didn't want to know where either he or Alice were.

When Jake came back, he had only a large popcorn and a couple bottles of water tucked in his right arm.

"We're sharing this. Everything else cost as much as a tank of gas."

"Alright fine," I said, pulling out one of the bottles. "And you're giving my phone back. That's final, Jake."

"You're right. I am..."

I held my right palm up.

"After the movie." He chomped on some popcorn, then offered the huge bag to me. "Want some?"

I shook my head, and he shrugged.

"You ever gonna show me your haircut?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"You've been so annoying with all your little secrets." Just as his whine hit my ears, the line began to move. We had about a hundred people ahead of us, so I couldn't dodge this question.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's a long story, like I told you." I rubbed my neck at the tender spot where Edward had left me his love. It had faded from the intense purple hue it had been the last few days. Now, it was a sickly yellow color, as were the rest of my bruises, and I hated it. The yellow brought me back to me. I wanted the crimson and the eggplant and the onyx back.

"It's that friend of yours, isn't it?"

"What?" I blanched, my heart skipping a beat. Luckily, Jake was focused on his popcorn and missed my reaction. I took a deep breath as he looked up at me. "What friend?"

"That Brandon chick? The one who was in all those pictures with you for Halloween?"

"Oh."

"She's cute. Kinda like Megan Fox."

I snorted. "You're not exactly her type. Don't think she'd fall for you."

"Why not? I'm a good guy. Single. About to be richer than Lebron James."

"That's the thing. She's not into guys. Not now anyways."

Staring ahead, he had the goofiest smile with a daydream playing in his dark brown eyes. "A lesbian. Hot! Now, I definitely _definitely _gotta meet her."

"So gross."

"You two ever get it on? I want in on that action."

I shook my head, revolted. "Not happening. I'm never speaking to her again."

"Hold up." He turned to face me. "Did you two date and break up? Is this the 'long story'?" He dragged out the word "long."

The people ahead of us turned around and stared at me up and down. In my oversized hoodie and jeans, I did look pretty butch. I gave them the finger to go along with their assumptions and they turned around again.

"Thanks for embarrassing me like that."

"They don't care." Jake bumped my shoulder with his. "So, you went out with a girl, huh? Was she a good kisser?"

I poked his right shoulder, hitting muscle. "Jake, I did _not _date Alice. For fuck's sakes, if you wanna get it on with a couple lesbos, 8th Avenue's right around the corner," I said, pointing my thumb behind me.

"Why would I wanna do it with a couple strangers when I can do it with you two for free?"

I groaned, and he hooted in the most obnoxious way. I had forgotten how young he was, and so insensitive. Such a guy.

"Alright look," he said, finally wiping that stupid grin off his face. "I just wanna understand why you've been so weird since I came back. If it's not school, and it's not this girl, what is it?"

I blushed furiously, which made him nod and made me blush even more. "Please, let's not get into it now."

"Look at you. You're blushing. And before, when I mentioned 'a friend,' you were as white as a snowy owl." _Damn, he caught that. _"Why didn't you tell me you were a lesbian?"

Hugging myself, I looked up at him through my lashes. "Let's just watch some pubescent wizards fight or whatever and forget everything for the next couple hours. I'll tell you as soon as it's over."

"I'd be honored to have a lesbian as a friend. I've never had one before."

"Mmm hmm, yeah. You still don't, Jake."

We got inside shortly after that agreement and watched the film in silence. And while I found the film enjoyable, it got a bit dull after they apparated* from the Ministry. For the next hour, I thought about how I'd explain Alice and Edward to Jake.

_"Remember that guy at that play we saw last May? Yeah, we're dating."_

Except what Edward and I had didn't really classify as dating. And he wasn't my boyfriend. He was so much more. He also didn't trust me as far as he could throw me.

_"Remember that guy at that play we saw last May? Yeah, we're, like together, but not together together."_

And Alice?

_"Yeah, we're friends, but not too close... Even though she saved my life, has been buying my clothes, food, and paying my bills for the last three months."_

Jake was gonna ask so many more questions that I didn't know the answers to. And he would probably assume the worst of Edward, which was undeserved. Jake just wouldn't get it.

After the credits rolled, he jumped out of his seat, giddy. At least one of us was excited.

"That was good. We should see it again when we get home."

"Subtle, Jake." I got up and stretched. "I told you I'm not going."

"Why not? It's not like you have to be anywhere else... right?"

I huffed. Even though the theater was emptying out, I felt trapped.

"Alright, movie's over. Give me my phone."

"Not till you tell me why you're acting like this."

"Those were _not _the conditions we discussed."

Jake shook his hands as if he were about to get into a boxing ring with me. "I just made it the condition. Tell me what's up."

"You're so obnoxious!" I reached into his pocket where the phone was, but he immediately slapped my hand away. When he held it up, my wrist looked like a straw in his hand. He shook his head.

"Now you're not playing fair." Jake fished his pocket for the phone and waved it in the air.

"Please give it back. Please?"

He tapped his chin with his index finger. "Hmm, your desperation is quite telling, Bella. You got naughty texts in here with your girlfriend?"

I screwed my face up, my heart pounding in my chest. "Please Jake."

He raised it in the air, way out of my reach even if I jumped, and turned it on.

"Excuse me," someone with a Jamaican accent said behind me. Over my shoulder, I saw a tall black skinny guy with glasses holding up a carpet sweeper in his hands.

"Let's go, Jake." When I looked back up at him, he lowered his arm, the bright backlight of the iPhone's screen disappearing in his coat pocket. As we made our way down the steps and into the hall, I watched him pull it out again.

"This is really embarrassing," I said with a laugh that sounded false even to me. "I don't have anything smutty in there, especially not for a girl."

"I guess I'll see for myself." He had the most smug look on his face as he raised my phone high above his head again. Slack-jawed, I watched as he scrolled through my home menu.

"Oh, looks like you've been popular in the last three hours. Five voicemails, thirty emails and ten texts. Didn't know you were so cool now, Bells."

"Jake-" I tried pulling his arm down, but it was like pulling a branch off of a tree.

"Ah, okay first text..." His smirk was debilitating. "A fair maiden named Jessica," he said in this terrible British accent. "She says, and I quoteth, 'Turn on the news. Alice is all over the news.'" Jake went back into his regular voice. "You got famous friends and didn't tell me?"

"Are you gonna read every single one of my texts or-"

"Maybe." He shrugged, sliding his finger across the screen to the next text. "Next one is from a dude. Ah, booty call, Bells?"

_Oh God. _

When he cleared his throat, I jumped up and hooked my hands over his bicep, trying to pull his arm down with my body weight. He just tossed the phone over into his right hand and laughed and laughed. Jake's laugh was infectious most times. In this moment, its mocking tone hit me like a barrel of oil. I let go to land on my feet, but I punched him in the stomach and pinched his side right afterward.

"Hey, that tickles," Jake said with a giggle. Then, "Oh, this is a longer one." His delighted dark brown eyes moved from left to right. "He's pissed at you." Jake chuckled right when he got to the end. "Mad he didn't get a booty call last night?" Then, he went on to the next text.

"You're invading my privacy. This is, like, against the law."

"Yeah, maybe if you're CIA..." He said this absently as he read through another text.

Since August, Edward never sent me a text message. Who was the guy? Still Erik?

"What are you reading? Jake, I never get this many notifications. Something's going on."

"Wow." He scratched his forehead. "You're right. Something _is _going on."

"What? What is it?"

"According to Erik," he began, and I screwed my face up, perplexed. _What did he want?_ "Your friend Alice got into something bad last night. He doesn't say what it is, though."

"What do you mean, bad?"

He gulped. "I don't know. He doesn't say anything else." As soon as he dropped his hand, I jumped up and ripped the phone out of it. Jake rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. Standing back, he looked as if he were calculating something in his head. His eyes were on overdrive.

"What? Did you see something else?"

He nodded, forming his right hand into a fist.

"What the hell's going on?" I groaned. Skimming through all my recent texts, I found a bunch from Erik and the one from Jessica. _Of course __Edward didn't text me. _Jessica's was the earliest one. The other nine were from Erik and they were all as angry as Jake had hinted at earlier:

_**Erik: **__Things are so fucked up, and it's all because of you! If anything happens to Alice, I will make y__our life a living hell!_

_2:15 p.m._

They all read like that, except for one. In his first text, sent an hour and a half ago, he sounded confused.

_**Erik: **__'Swans will fly' Why would Alice write that in her status B?_

_1:10 p.m._

"Who the fuck are these people?" Jake asked. "One of those texts sounded like that Alice chick was gonna come after you."

I turned away from him, feeling my hands become numb and my heart race. I rubbed the back of my neck. "I don't know. I don't know."

I closed the text message app and opened my emails. Jake said I had thirty, but it was up to forty, now. They were all Facebook messages or notifications from a bunch of people I didn't even know.

"Is this why you didn't wanna show me your phone?" Jake asked through his teeth. "Alice is trying to kill you?"

"No, she's not homicidal. Everything's fine." I opened my Facebook app and saw dozens of notifications and messages. But the latest posting on my wall right at the top made me gasp.

"What is it? Bella!"

The phone slipped from my hands, and Jake caught it before it could hit the floor.

"I can't..." I couldn't say out loud what I had read.

_**Tia Pascano**_

_Bitch!_

_November 21, 2010 8:33 a.m._

_Daughter of Editor in Chief of The New Yorker, Alice Brandon, rushed to hospital._

_By Charlotte Hicks_

"_She was the nicest girl whenever I saw her in the hallway. We don't know how this could've happened to her," said JJ Jenks, a neighbor. "Always so happy."_

_Late last night, 21 year old Alice Brandon was rushed to Beth Israel Medical Center after she was found unconscious by a close friend in her __Bedford St. __apartment__.__ Police will not release any more information about her condition, although reports have circulated that drugs may have been found on the premises. _

_Esme Evanson could not be reached for comment._

_about ten minutes ago · Like · 1 Comment_

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**A/N:**

***Apparate- ****To Apparate is to transport oneself from one place to another by dissapparating and reapparating, coined from the Latin 'appareo', meaning to appear.**

**Bye :(**


	43. Chapter 40 Bullets

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :(**

**Cindy, Kelly, and Keye, thanks for the corrections. D'oh!**

**Melissa thanks for the encouragement, as always!**

**Jea, this chapter was goo before you helped me mold it into something with shape and form. Thank you!**

**Taking a deep breath here. So, this is a very complicated chapter. A lot of changes are going on with Bella and Alice. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask. I intend on answering a lot of open-ended questions involving Alice from prior chapters here; thus, if some questions are left unanswered by the end of this, I ask that you let me know. They will not get answered later.**

**If you have trouble reviewing this chapter, please pm me. Thank you.**

* * *

**Chapter 40- Bullets**

**November 21, 2010**

Jake's eyes were full of silent questions as we rushed out of the theater. He expressed his regret while hailing a cab for us, though. Apologizing for being selfish with my time and "playing keep away" with my phone, he pressed that I should've been with Alice. He wished he could go back and not be such a jerk, but I told him we didn't have time for regret.

"I'm glad I saw the movie, Jake," I told him when a cab finally slowed at our feet. The driver's grim expression matched the situation all too perfectly.

"Beth Israel," I told the driver as Jake pulled the door shut. Putting a hand on my friend's knee, I said, "Don't feel bad. You don't know the whole story."

Jake's eyes trained on me for a moment, expectant. By the time we drove past Madison Square Garden, I hunkered down and began to answer the questions that germinated in his eyes and formed on his lips. Starting with the internship at The New Yorker, I shared a story that had one hole after another. And, of course, all the holes piqued his interest. When more questions spilled from Jake's lips that I couldn't answer, he began probing me with his eyes. He tapped his knee with his right hand when he learned something new, but it wasn't enough because I never mentioned Edward.

"You said you didn't trust her this whole time. Why did you continue building a relationship with her if you never trusted her?" Jake asked.

"Because... Because I kept being in situations where I needed her. Our last fight made me see that I never knew her. She wouldn't let me really be her friend."

"What does that even mean? Fuck! What situations? Why did you fight? If you keep all these secrets from me, what makes you any better than Alice?"

Rubbing my cheeks, I wanted to answer him. My heart was full of my truth. But over the last few months, I realized my truth was never real. I couldn't tell Jake my story if it was mired in lies yet again. There was too much to learn.

"I _am_ just as bad at keeping things from you, but I don't even know what's going on myself. It's all a big mess that I hope to clear up as soon as we find out more about Alice's condition."

"That's not good enough, Bells."

Five minutes later, Jake was on edge while helping me out of the cab at Union Square, but not as much as I was.

"_Swans will fly." _

When Jake had seen Alice's Facebook status at the theater, he'd thought she was threatening me, but I thought I knew better. Remembering those words in the Times article was confirmation: she wasn't planning on doing anything to me.

"_Drugs may have been found on the premises,"_ the article had said. It must have been an overdose, which made me wonder what drove her to this.

Apparently, Erik thought I had something to do with it, but I'd spoken to Alice days ago, and she hadn't sounded like she was at the point of no return. In the beginning of our phone call, she'd sounded morose. That quickly changed once she revealed to me that she'd seen Edward and me at the Times Square train station.

_"You're the one who keeps choosing him over me. Better friends?" _

She was furious about seeing Edward and me again, but that couldn't have brought her to this. Alice was stronger than this. Maybe something drove her to take those drugs... or someone.

Maybe the guy who's been missing for the last three days had something to do with this.

I almost tripped on the curb, thinking about all the implications of this possible meeting. What could Edward have done or said to drive her to do this? How long were they together? Did he go to her or did she go to him? Why now? Edward hadn't even spoken to Ben. He didn't go to rehearsal for days. Was it because of her? Or was it because of what he did to her?

"Hey, you look like Hedwig*." Jake offered me a sympathetic smile. "Did you see something? What's wrong?"

"I just think I figured out why this happened." My throat hurt as I fought to keep tears at bay. Every possible reason led to Edward, and I hated it. He was the only person who had a detrimental effect on Alice. He saw her and turned her into a mass of self-loathing and chaos.

Alice had had a fully loaded gun in her hand for the last three months. She wouldn't have shot it if I was there for her. Edward was the trigger. The drugs were just bullets.

"How?" His face had been shaded by different tones after my explanation. Regret was replaced by anger. A deep groove set in his forehead. "Or is this just another question you won't answer?" His eyes narrowed as he stared across the street at Madison Square Park.

"I'm sorry, okay. As soon as I see her, I'll tell you everything. It's just a lot to process right now." I told Jake as I led him through the Beth Israel Emergency Room doors. There were dozens of news vans and a crowd of bystanders at the front entrance on Park and on 15th St. Thankfully, none blocked the emergency room entrance.

"Bella, that's not good enough. Why are we even here? Before we saw Deathly Hallows, you told me you never wanted to speak to her again."

It was so cold in here, colder than it was in the Lenox Hill emergency room.

_"I'll help you and with time, things will be easier. I promise."_

A single tear escaped, rolling down my cheek like a refugee, then seeking shelter in the folds of my hoodie. I held the rest captive, refusing to let Jake see me break down once more. He'd probably think I was crying for my lesbian ex-girlfriend.

"You said you can't trust her. You had this fight and never wanted to speak to her, but we're at the hospital like you care about her?" He wiped my wet cheek, drying his thumb on his jeans. I shook my head.

"I'm not best friends with her. I doubt I ever was." I lowered my head to the floor.

"So, you're crying for a girl who wasn't a friend?" He cocked his eyebrow. "You don't need to be here. Let's get you home."

That word again: "home." I bit my lower lip, wishing I could suck out all the tears in my body. Then, I shook my head.

"No, Jake. I have to stay." I had to find out why Alice did this, if my theory about Edward was right. Erik had to be at her bedside. He would know if there were any signs of a confrontation between Alice and Edward. However, until I found out why, I'd just be telling Jake more lies. If Edward did something to Alice, then my love affair with him would be even more complicated. How could I explain a man who loved me, abandoned me, hurt me, and said he would never forgive me? How could I explain that I still loved and needed him despite all that? And if he'd hurt Alice again, I wouldn't be able to tell Jake anything. He just wouldn't understand.

"Let's just go find out what we can about Alice."

But the attendant at the main desk wouldn't let us see her, which gutted me. Every tear Jake wiped away was replaced by another.

"Hey, you gotta stop crying," Jake said, pinching both of my cheeks. He took a deep breath, grinning. "I bet she's fine."

"But, the drugs..." I sniffled. "What if it was some crazy cocktail or cocaine or heroin, and she never wakes up?"

"She's gonna wake up, Bella." He rubbed my shoulder. "And the news could've been wrong about the drugs. Besides, people wake up from that stuff everyday."

"And some people don't."

Jake helped me to a seat while I figured out what to do next. He drummed his fingers on his jeans. "I bet she's fine by now."

"The eternal optimist," I said. I tried to smile for him, but whatever look I came up with made him suddenly pensive. He leaned forward, turning his face up to me.

"You used to be optimistic, too, remember? You used to be a lot of things until you met this girl who sounded like she wanted to kill you."

"Alice wouldn't do that," I said.

"You told me on the way here that she wasn't who you thought she was. Now you're sure she wouldn't hurt you?" Jake cocked an eyebrow.

"I just know it, alright? Don't look at me like that. I told you what happened last summer."

He chuckled. "Right. School was great. Your internship sucked. Alice was a good friend after you got fired, and you're grateful for what she and that Erik loser did to cheer you up. Then, you had a fight, she wrote a creepy status update, and he sent you a bunch of scary-as-fuck messages?"

"Erik's just really hot-headed. His texts aren't a big deal."

"Why was he so angry at you, though? And that girl who posted the article on your Wall. It was more than about the lunch, wasn't it?"

I rubbed the top of my head with the heel of my right hand, looking over Jake's shoulder as if I could find an answer there. He had asked this in the cab when I couldn't answer, and I still couldn't.

"It wasn't." I pulled out my phone from my pocket. "I need to call Erik. He'll know her condition."

When I dialed his number, it went straight to voicemail. As soon as I hung up, Jake grabbed my cell phone out of my shaky hand.

"For fuck's sake! I'm not gonna do this again!"

He got up and crossed his arms. "These _people_are fucked up."

"You have no right to-"

"I have every right," he uttered through his teeth. "I feel like I'm the only one of us two who cares about what happens to you."

With my mouth agape, "You- You think I have some sort of neuroses? I can take care of myself and worry about my friend at the same time, Jacob. She saved my life." I snapped my mouth shut. _Dammit, he's gonna flip out, now._

"_What?_" Both of his eyebrows rose, and his lips became as thin as a guitar string. "Did- What happened?" His chest heaved. He looked me up and down. "Did you almost overdose?"

Behind Jake's clenched fist, I found Ms. Evanson exiting the elevator. She was sobbing but wasn't alone. A blond woman who looked a little bit younger walked with her arm around her slumped shoulders.

_Oh no. Alice. _

"It's Alice's mom! I gotta go talk to her."

"Hey!" He grabbed my hand and yanked me forward. "You can keep dancing around this, but you're gonna tell me the truth."

"I'll tell you. I promise." I took a step forward, but he held me to him. He brought my hand to his chest.

"Whatever it is, it's not a big deal. Unless you killed somebody, I won't care. Hell, even if you did, we could figure something out."

"I'll tell you today, Jake. I will."

"Did you overdose?"

"No! Lemme talk to Ms. Evanson, please."

He let go of my hand, his eyes soft but his lips tight.

"I'm sorry this doesn't make sense now, but it will," I pleaded. "I'll explain when I'm done."

As he nodded, I backed away slowly, turned around, and ran after her.

Just as she turned a corner near the exit, I called out Ms. Evanson's name. She didn't seem to hear me immediately, but the blond looked over her shoulder. She had Ms. Evanson's eyes.

"Wait!"

Ms. Evanson stopped, then. She said something I couldn't hear to the blond, who I assumed to be her sister. The blond nodded, her full lips pressed into a thin line, and continued on down the corridor leaving a haggard-looking Ms. Evanson behind.

"Bella."

"I'm so sorry this is happening," I said breathlessly when I finally caught up. I took a couple quick breaths as she frowned. She was much more tanned than she had been the last time I saw her. I remembered Alice telling me she had been in Egypt on assignment since July. "Is she alright?"

"I- I-" she wiped her nose with a napkin. Her eyes were blood red, and her face was clear of makeup. I had never seen her without makeup before. "She's in a coma."

I gasped. Did Edward hurt her so badly he made her lose consciousness?

"How? Was she hurt? Did someone hurt her?"

Ms. Evanson shook her head. "No, it was drugs. And I don't know if she's going to make it this time, Bella. I think I might lose her."

_This time? _My heart felt like it was going to explode. Edward hadn't hurt her. What kind of girlfriend was I to assume that of him?

She began sobbing, and I didn't know what to do. Hugging her seemed so inappropriate, but letting her crumple before me was unbearable. I pulled her in my arms, and she accepted with more tears. A couple of minutes later, my shoulder was damp and warm. Tentatively, I patted her back as she slowly pulled away.

"I'm sorry about this." Ms. Evanson sniffled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That was very inappropriate of me." She leaned against the wall.

"No, I think crying's totally appropriate right now," I said as lightly as I could. She seemed like she appreciated my words and even smiled a little. "So what happened? Did she really overdose like the news said?"

Ms. Evanson nodded. "It was Klonopin." She sighed. I gulped. "I didn't know she was taking them again after..." She shifted her eyes to the right.

"After what?"

Folding her hands in front of her, she tilted her head to the side. "I thought you two were good friends. She hasn't spoken to you about this?"

"We a-are good friends, but she didn't tell me she used drugs before."

"Her prescribed medication saved her life." She pulled out a packet of tissues from her purse. It looked like a Birkin. "She had terrible panic attacks and insomnia for months after her... incident with Edward."

"You don't have to be cryptic anymore about that. I know what he did. Edward told me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh." She peered into my eyes. "Have you left him?"

I winced. The notion alone pained me.

"No. I haven't."

"I hope you know what you're doing Bella," she said, wiping her nose with tissue. "He turned her inside out. She went through therapy for years and moved to New Orleans to recover, and she did. She hasn't had a panic attack since she enrolled at Tisch, nor did she go back to performing that criminal activity. Did she ever show signs of drug use over the past few months?"

I frowned, which made Ms. Evanson cross her arms over her chest. Her stature was straight, and her eyes pierced mine.

"She has? For months?"

I nodded, to which she cringed. "I didn't think it was a big deal."

"You didn't think Klonopin was a big deal?" Her voice was raised but strained. "Do you know what it is?"

"I do. I had to take it, too," I stammered.

"Oh Bella." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you had an anxiety disorder."

I shook my head. "It was insomnia, really."

"You took Klonopin for your insomnia? That wasn't very responsible of your psychiatrist."

I stared at my shoes. After a pause I said, "He came highly recommended."

She brushed her bottom lip with her thumb. Her eyes probed me like I was on a petri dish. I tugged my hood lower and took a couple of steps back. "Alice gave you the pills, didn't she?" She didn't wait for me to reply. "I cannot believe all of this is happening again."

"No, it's not what you think. I don't take the Klonopin anymore. And Alice seemed really responsible the last few months. She was always in control. There is no 'again.' She's not dealing. She was totally normal."

"Except now she's in the hospital with an overdose!" The strain was gone, and her voice reached the nurses and patients walking by us, who stared and slowed their pace. Ms. Evanson glared at them. "A little privacy? Thanks." She sighed and spoke with the strain once more. "Did you ever see her take it with a drink? Because that's what the doctors found in her system tonight: vodka and this drug."

I remembered Alice's strange behavior during her Halloween party. She took one pill, that I saw anyway, and was a bit too friendly with her guests. But she was fine the next day while we had our Sex and the City marathon. She was lucid and excited and her old self.

"No, never. I've never even seen Alice drink before. She always drinks water at her events."

Ms. Evanson glanced up at the ceiling then stared at me. This was what Alice did when she was upset. "Are you sure it was water?"

"Uh- Um, yes. It had to be. I saw her drink out of water bottles."

"Huh." She kicked herself off the wall. "She used to put vodka in water bottles when she was in high school," she mused.

I slid down to the floor, pulling down the strings of the hoodie so that it was tight around my face.

"I really didn't know."

"Exactly how close were you two?"

"Not very," I mumbled. "She- she and I had a fight last week."

"Really?" She leaned back against the wall, looking down at me. "What was it about? Was it about Edward?"

I nodded. My stomach was on a seesaw.

"She will never get over that boy."

"Get over him?" Why did she keep talking about Alice and Edward like they were together? "Were they in a relationship back then?"

"No, that's not what I meant. Alice has attempted to make-up for her involvement in Jasper's death since the summer. She wanted to make amends for that and the lie about the rape. I cannot believe you weren't privy to any of this."

"I was." I focused too hard on the black and white tiles below my feet. "But she was so angry with Edward the last time we spoke." I watched Ms. Evanson walk to the wall across from us, then back to me. "She wasn't always so angry. Last summer, she _was_apologetic. I sorta got it before, because of Jasper. But after learning about what Edward did to her... it doesn't make sense."

"I've been asking her why Edward means so much to her since last July, Bella, and every time, she just says, 'It's the right thing to do.'"

So my suspicions were wrong. She really wasn't using me to get back at Edward? She _did _want to give him the money. Or did she lie to her mother, too?

If everything, the internship, the clothes, the parties, weren't part of a game, then she _was_in love with me. And yet, she kept so much hidden then lied to my face point blank about it all.

"I don't understand it," I uttered under my breath.

"I don't, either. Edward would've never accepted her apologies."

"No, not that." I worried my lower lip. "She lied to me about so much, Ms. Evanson."

"What else is new?" She rolled her eyes down to me. "After Edward... did what he did, she made up a slew of lies, even to her father, with whom she's always been close."

"How could Edward's actions cause her to be so manipulative? I don't get it."

"It's more than that." She scratched her right temple. "She doesn't trust people easily. She thinks they'll all hurt her. The lies keep her in a cage. It's what her therapist used to tell us when she was in high school. She's ashamed of who she is, so she hides behind these bars forged by lies."

"Or... they're a byproduct of her escape into a dreamland?"

"Maybe. I suppose that's where she's been this Fall." She shut her eyes and shook her head in the slightest way. "Early this year, though, things were starting to change. She opened up last spring, excited about her Shakespeare class, which seemed odd to me, because she's never liked the playwright." I coughed when she said this. "Still, I was grateful. She started to confide in me in ways I never could've imagined."

I wondered for a moment if that included Alice's affair with Evans. After a brief hesitation, I decided there was no way Ms. Evanson could've known. Alice wouldn't have told her mom that she was sleeping with her professor to pass his class. And if Ms. Evanson knew, she would've done something.

What Evans was doing was wrong, and Ms. Evanson would stop it if she knew about it. It had to stop. I couldn't do it alone. Jessica would hate me forever if I did. But he was taking advantage of these girls, and it had to stop.

This was the only truth in the world that I knew with absolute certainty. I had to share it.

"I don't think she's told you everything," I licked my lips, suddenly suffering from cottonmouth.

Her eyes popped open, but she stared at the ceiling instead of down at me. "What's 'everything,' Bella?"

"Um... She- Alice had an affair with Professor Evans."

All the air whooshed out of Ms. Evanson's body, but, other than that, she remained calm. She rubbed her hands together.

"That was _not _something she shared with me. How did you learn about this?"

"It started out as a rumor, but-"

"Alice didn't tell you about this, either?"

I pressed my lips together. "Alice didn't tell me anything unless she wanted to. And even if I asked her about it, she would lie to my face."

Her cheeks reddening, she lowered her face to meet my eyes again. "She wouldn't have been so cagey if she knew she could trust you. You're with Edward, now. She could never be so honest with someone associated with that boy." She turned her back to me, rubbing her forehead with the heel of her right hand.

"Edward wasn't even here over the last couple months. She could've told me the truth so many times and didn't."

Ms. Evanson walked to the middle of the hall. Looking over her shoulder, she said quietly, "Alice was right about you."

"She was?" I raised my eyebrows. "About what?"

She faced forward, pulling a pair of black leather gloves from her coat pocket. It was a red wool coat, like the one Alice had bought for me. "She always said you were different from the other kids at school. She was rooting for you when the internship opportunity came up, did you know that?"

"Yeah. I mean," I gulped. "I didn't bribe her or anything. I didn't even know she did it."

"Yes, which was what intrigued me. Your peers bribed me for months, you know? All you sent was a so-so term paper."

I felt like swallowing my tongue. "Oh. I thought you liked my paper?" I mumbled. My face got hot, and I couldn't look her in the eye.

"I did. It was very elementary, but good. There were others whose theses were far more provocative, more complex. Your analysis wasn't half as deep as Jessica Stanley's. Hers wasn't riddled with typos, either."

"But even Professor Evans liked it. I got an A on that paper."

Ms. Evanson scratched her temple. "What your professors deem exemplary in academia isn't so in the real world. Your ideas were solid. You are a bright girl. But you didn't discover anything new about the characters. You should've gone deeper."

"Then- I- If mine wasn't as good as the others... You're saying Alice was the only reason I got that internship?"

"There has only been one spot available for this internship since Professor Evans became an associate professor at NYU. Alice begged me to let you in, and I opened up the second spot."

Another lie. Alice had sworn that her mother made up her own mind. I cursed. Then, hot tears burned my eyes, threatening to embarrass me in front of Ms. Evanson. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a couple of deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Bella." My eyes flew open at her apology.

"But-" I cleared my throat of a heavy sob. The skin on my cheeks crackled. "I thought you... We're 'why' girls."

"What?" Her eyes lit up. "'Why' girl? What's that?"

"During my interview," I whispered through quick breaths. "You told me I was a 'why' girl."

"Oh that." She said this as if she remembered, but what came out of her mouth wasn't reflected in her eyes. "I meant it. And whatever you plan to do as a 'why' girl in your life will be great, but I don't see working at The New Yorker as one of them." She averted her eyes, rolling the gold watch around her wrist. "I'm sorry, Bella. This just isn't what you're meant to do in life."

"How-" _This can't be. _I was born to be a journalist. I was born to seek out the truth in people. Yet, here this expert in truth-telling was, telling me I wasn't that girl at all?

Who was I?

"I'm really sorry, Bella. I've gotta go." She held my shoulder, the weight of her hand making my arms feel like mashed potatoes. I shut my eyes, then slowly opened them as she released me. She cleared her throat. "Okay."

"Okay." I scrambled up to my feet. "I just wanna... can I see Alice?"

Just then, the blond reappeared at the end of the corridor.

"Taxi's here, Esme," she said.

"Thanks, Rose." Ms. Evanson turned to me, "I don't think now is a good time. Maybe tomorrow, okay? Maybe she'll even wake up."

"Bella?" I heard Jake say behind me. His voice was solemn. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

Ms. Evanson's eyes lifted up to him. At first, she was startled. However after a second, she seemed relieved to see him. It was probably the face Alice would've had if she had met him. She had mentioned playing matchmaker for Jake and me the last time we hung out. And after watching Carrie lose Aidan during our Sex and the City marathon, I'd told her it wasn't possible. Her mom, on the other hand, seemed to think it was.

As I turned around to see Jake with his hands outstretched, he offered me my phone.

"Who is it, Jake?"

He narrowed his eyes down at me. His eyes weren't soft anymore. They were black. His nostrils flared as he placed the phone in my hands.

"Edward? Your boyfriend?"

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**A/N: **

***Hedwig is Harry Potter's snow-white owl.**

**Bye. :)**


	44. Chapter 41 Probes

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

**My heart goes out to all those who've lost loved ones, homes, and livelihoods in Moore, Oklahoma this past Monday. We are a country filled with greatness: great people, great hope, great love. Moore will be great again, of this I am sure. **

**Phew. My prereaders and beta really liked this one. So, hopefully you all will, too. :)  
**

* * *

**Chapter ****41****- Probes**

**November 2****1****, 2010**

"Here take it!" Jake hissed, shoving the phone in my hand, then stood back with his intimidating stance. His eyes calculated my every move. I held my phone to my chest and looked over my shoulder to see Ms. Evanson shake her head with a slight frown, then wave goodbye.

"Bella?" I heard Edward's voice become scratchy from the receiver. My heart skidded to a complete stop. "Bella? Hello?" I brought the phone up to my ear and turned to face Jake again. He was breathing so quickly.

"I'm here," I said into the phone. "Edward."

"Are you alright? I heard about what happened to Alice and... Are you alright?" His voice was high and tight. I had never heard him sound like this. He was hysterical.

"I'm... okay." I took a deep breath, watching Jake's feet as he began to pace in front of me. When I peeked up, my sheepish gaze met his curious one. He was searching for clues, it seemed, trying to figure something out.

"Good." Edward's sigh filled my ear from the receiver. "Good. Where are you? Wherever you are, I'm gonna come get you." He spoke so fast, it was hard to keep up with him. The panic had left his voice, determination replacing it.

I didn't think it was even possible to see him tonight. Jake's eyes were two crackling embers about to explode.

"I don't know if I can," I muttered. The fluorescent lights were suddenly too bright. I leaned against the wall, rubbing my forehead with the back of my hand.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I gotta..." I gulped. "I gotta talk to Jake." Jake snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Jake? The guy who picked up?"

"Yeah." Jake scratched the middle of his head, then walked over to the wall opposite me. He finally stopped probing me, shutting his eyes and cracking his knuckles. "I gotta talk to Jake."

"You don't have to do anything but be with me." Edward said. His voice was deep. He found his command again. I had been waiting to hear him say these words to me for two weeks. I had needed to see him the moment he slammed my front door that final night. He had told me he never wanted to hear my voice again; yet now, he was listening with bated breath. Every time I spoke, I heard him sigh with relief.

The sound of his last sigh paused my exultation. Where was he every night that I tried calling him? With whom was he breathing? Jane? Or Alice?

"Are you at the hospital?" Edward continued. "Is that where you are? I'll take you home."

Home. I had wanted to go back to the penthouse, into his arms, for months. I had wanted to bask in the hue of his freckles and sink into his eyes for months. How could I refuse him? I couldn't. I just needed answers.

"Okay." I breathed. "Yes, I'm at Beth Israel." Jake's eyes snapped open.

"I'll be there-" Edward said as Jake marched over to me. "- in ten..." Then, he snatched the phone out of my hand before Edward could finish.

"Jake no!"

He yelled into the phone. "You son-of-a-bitch! You stay the hell away from her!"

"What the hell!" I reached out to him, but he twisted away, heading for the exit.

"It's not happening, dude. If you come anywhere near her, I swear to God, I'll break you in half."

"Please don't." I pushed the heavy front door open, following him out to the street. The wind gusts stole my breath. "Jake, where are you going?"

He brought the phone right up to his lips. "Fuck off!" He jabbed his thumb on the screen, then shoved it into his pocket. "Let's go, Bella!" he faced me, shouting, "I'm taking you home!"

"Excuse me?"

"You've been so different." His left hand gripped on my right wrist like a vice. "So damn boney. So fucking mousy, like you're afraid I'd snap at you if you disagreed with something I said."

"I _have_ disagreed with you," I retorted. My voice was faint and carried away by the wind.

"What? I can barely hear you anymore, Minnie Mouse."

"I'm not a pushover!" I cleared my throat and spoke louder. "If I were, I would've agreed to go to Forks with you." I wrenched my wrist out of his grip.

Jake didn't hesitate to respond.

"You and I both know why you've refused to go back to Forks. It has nothing to do with Charlie and everything to do with your weird behavior. It's him. This asshole's done this to you!"

"No-" I rubbed the back of my neck.

"No? Then, tell me why you look like Skeletor?"

"I was sick." I averted my eyes.

He sucked his teeth. "Last I checked, the flu doesn't make you threaten your friends if they don't give you your phone back. You acted like you had a hundred-million-dollar chip in here. But you were hiding _him_, weren't you? Because you're ashamed of what he's done."

The blustery evening air unmercifully hit my raw cheeks. The wind whipped the hood around the back of my head until I tugged the strings down.

"No. No, I'm not. I- I don't know..." I turned away from the wind to catch my breath. "I don't know what I am. It's a lot that you just don't get, yet."

Jake stared at me, his eyes traveling to the hood on top of my head.

"Jake." I blew into my hands to warm them. My fingers were becoming numb at the tips. "Edward's coming. Please drop this," I pleaded

The wind picked up, and I was about to tie the strings together when Jake cursed. Then, he did the most heart-wrenching thing.

He yanked the hood off my head.

"Shit Bella!" His eyes bulged and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

Almost tripping on my own feet, I backed away, immediately pulling the hood back on.

"What the fuck's on your neck? You look like you got infected. What the fuck?" His mouth was wide open but not wider than his brown eyes. They grew misty.

"I'm not infected. I'm fine."

"They're all over. I've never seen anything like that!"

"It's no big deal, really. Now," I slowly backed away. "I'll see you tomorrow before you leave. I promise. I gotta be here for Edward."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." He nodded. I stopped moving.

"Um... great." I cocked my eyebrow with a tilt of my forehead. "I'm glad you finally agree." _That was too easy. _When he grabbed my right hand, I scoffed.

"Let me go!"

"We gotta get you checked in."

"What?" I eyed his hand on mine, then narrowed my eyes at him. "No, we don't. I'm fine."

"You're about as fine as Paul was after I punched his face into the ground last month. You need to see a doctor. Now." Like I was made of yarn, he pulled me toward the glass doors.

"Jake!" I tried standing my ground, but he marched on, effortlessly bringing me closer. I knew he would overreact this way, and now Jake was gonna want Edward's head, all for something that my friend didn't understand. "Jake, stop!"

"No!" He stopped, pivoting on his heels to face me. His face screwed up, and the veins on his neck popped out. "What's wrong with you? He hurt you!"

I shook my head, quickly refuting him. "He didn't. They're hickeys."

With his eyebrows raised, he asked, "Have you seen your neck?"

"It's not, Jake. Lay off. You don't understand."

"Maybe..." Frustration bubbled beneath his tone, about to erupt. "Maybe it's a good thing I don't. I never gave a girl _hickeys _like _that_."

When I finally twisted my arm out, Jake stared at his hand with a grimace. My next words quickly reshaped his lips into a menacing point.

"It's not an infection. He didn't hit me. There's nothing you or any of those doctors can do for me, alright? I need one thing, and he's coming to this hospital in less than ten minutes. I _will_ be here when he gets here."

I marched to the Emergency Room's double doors. Hearing Jake's quick steps behind me hurried my own, but mine weren't fast enough.

He was gentle when he took my shoulder to stop me. I didn't turn around as he spoke words that ignited me like a lightning strike.

"The girl I know wouldn't have those scary _hickeys_ all over her neck. She wouldn't have kept this secret. She wouldn't accept this fucker for the shit he is. She would demand more because that's what she deserves."

My eyes widened and my lips fell into a frown. It was so much like what Alice had said the morning of my birthday, and even a couple of weeks ago during our fight. Alice had blamed Edward, though. Jake wasn't. He was holding me accountable, which was appropriate. Edward wouldn't have discarded me over the last few days if I hadn't let him.

I wanted so badly to tell him that he was right. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to see the world as it was instead of behind all of these veils of lies. I wanted a panacea to remedy my blindness, my nonchalance, and even apathy towards the unnecessary, to remember that everything was necessary. I wanted Jake to stop looking at me like I belonged in Arkham Asylum.

I wanted these things, but I craved, would crawl on my knees to the ends of the Earth, would scratch my eyes out and tear my ears off for Edward. He might be with Jane again. He might hate me. I might not deserve him. Nonetheless, I had to find a way to be with him, because never was not an option.

When Edward got here, I would not be in the care of some strange doctor giving me medication I didn't need. Nor would I be the girl he could use each night and toss away when he was done. I would see Edward and would leave with Edward.

I bowed my head. I would give Jake my truth. That's all he would need to understand what I deserved so that he could leave me with the man I needed.

"You weren't here in August," I muttered. "You don't know what I deserve."

He tapped my shoulder, prompting me to turn around. Then, he massaged my shoulder. I was so tense. His thick fingers worked out the kinks. "So, tell me. How could you keep this guy from me for so long? Why is your neck covered in bruises? What happened in August?"

A quick version should suffice, as brief as the story I told him about Alice.

Jake was incredulous when I told him I had moved in with Edward last summer. I reminded him of the call about the gadgets in the bathroom and kitchen. At the time, I played them off as if they belonged to a friend. Recognition crossed his face. Then, his mocking laugh stung so badly, it stole my breath like the wind.

"You moved in with a guy you knew for a minute!"

"He needed me. It's kinda..." I couldn't believe I was about to say a word I loathed. "... complicated."

He was livid when I told him I had to go to the hospital after Edward and I had our falling out, and he left. I didn't tell Jake why, though, which made him go ballistic.

"You could've died! Bella, he could've killed you, and you never told me? In September, I would've canceled the tour if I knew this was happening!"

"He didn't almost kill me. He was angry and had every right to be angry."

"Angry enough to hit you?"

"He didn't. He's never, and he will never. I had a panic attack, but-" Jake's cheeks flushed and his eyes bulged. "I-it wasn't a big deal," I stammered as Jake laughed mirthlessly. I went on. "A friend of mine was here to help."

"A friend?" He breathed with a cocked eyebrow.

Thankfully, Alice's name steered the conversation to the girl he hadn't fully understood earlier tonight and calmed him down.

"If this girl was so great to you over the past few months, why did Erik write all that scary shit in those texts? And that 'Swans will fly' update really doesn't make sense. What happened to make her write that?"

I licked my lower lip, dry and cracked from the bitter cold. "That's... That had to do with Edward."

"So!" He snapped his fingers as if he had an epiphany. "He fucked her! I thought you said she was a lesbian?"

"He didn't." I took a breath. "I-" And another.

"You what? What?" Jake peered down at me.

"Alice wasn't someone Edward wanted me hanging around, and when I did, Edward got... " I huffed. "...angry."

Jake pointed at my neck, bristling. "He left those on your neck the last time he got angry?"

"For the final time, these are hickeys. Why are you acting like you've never seen them before?"

"You're the one who's been hiding them from me."

_If Jake ever saw my wrists and the bruises on the rest of my body, I'd be on the next plane to Forks._

"Yeah, because I knew you'd overreact! Christ!"

Jake's nostrils flared. "You really wanna believe that, don't you? But deep down you _are _ashamed. _My_ Bella wouldn't care if I got angry about anything."

I was sick and tired of listening to him yammer about "his Bella." "I'm not ashamed of the bruises. It's something else. And Edward had every right to be pissed at me."

"What the hell could you have done to him to turn you into a poor excuse of a person? I swear, it's like invasion of the body snatchers, Bells!"

Again, his words stung. I didn't want them to, but these reached my bones. Edward didn't make me this way, though, I did. This was my fault.

I should've been stronger.

I should've been stronger.

Alice was a pathological liar because she was afraid. I shouldn't have anything or anyone to fear, especially not Jake.

"I... I lied to him, Jacob. I lied to a man I was supposed to love."

Jake sighed. He placed both of his hands on my shoulders and took a deep breath until I did, too. He always used to do this when I'd race to his house junior year, ranting about how Pete, the uppity close-minded editor at The Golden Onion, was making my life a living hell. I would scream until I had no oxygen left in my body. Then, Jake would breathe with me until I got it back.

"About what?" He asked after a minute passed. His eyes searched mine, left to right, left to right, scanning for the information in my head before my lips could form the words. "Why did you lie? Did you cheat on him?"

I shook my head. Gradually, my heart began to race, but it wasn't because of Jacob.

"Did you kill his dog?" He chuckled with a soft shake of my shoulders. "What?"

In a faint murmur, I told Jake about Carlisle's illness and Alice's money. Slowly, he took my hands, which I had balled up into tiny fists. He warmed them up between his soft palms. He had the softest hands.

"Cold!" Jake grinned. "Brrr!"

I nodded, watching his hands work around mine. They were numb but not from the cold. "Aren't you mad about what I did?"

"Mad? Bells!" He shook his head. "It wasn't your place to tell him. You'd only been going out for a few months. His dad should've told him he was sick. That's his fault, not yours."

"I can't speak for Edward's dad." I took another breath, feeling my toes warm up. I was warmer now, and slid my hands out of Jake's. Jake was warm, but not warm enough. "I can't say what the right thing is or not. Edward was hurting, though, and I betrayed his trust."

"Then he neglected you like you were his jump-off."

I cocked my eyebrow. "What's that mean?" I had a vague idea of its meaning but wasn't certain.

He looked pleased with himself. "Just one of the words I picked up from my producer."

"Oh. Hmm..."

"It means chick on the side."

"Oh." I sniffed. "Yeah, I knew that."

"Right." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Okay, so the money was stupid. Alice is cray. You should've listened to your boyfriend about this chick." _Cray? Oh dear._

"I know. It was stupid," I whispered, breathless. Tingles popped on the tips of my fingers.

_Edward's here._

"Listen, Bella. He shouldn't have abandoned you. You had to go to the hospital after he left. You said you had a panic attack? If he loved you, he wouldn't have left you like that over some lie you told."

Alice's words were back to haunt me again. Her assuring words didn't ring true because of her bias against Edward, but Jacob didn't have the same baggage. He knew what love was, too. He stayed with the woman he cherished, despite her faults. Jake didn't know Edward, though. He never witnessed his sorrow or knew of all the loss he had endured.

I just had to talk to Edward, which he sounded like he was ready to do on the phone, finally. Things could be better if Jake didn't meddle.

"I don't know what else to say, Jake. And I won't change my mind about this."

Jake sighed. "You know, I woke up this morning thinking, 'Finally, I get a day off.' Now, I feel like I'm in a soap opera." With a wry smile, "I'm not the guy who has to take his shirt off every scene, am I?"

I smiled from ear to ear at that. "No." I bit my lip to keep from laughing. I was giddy for more than just Jake's joke. The tingles climbed up my arms and legs to my core, tickling my stomach and lungs. "And hey, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Edward."

He pinched the sleeve of my hoodie. "Like that's a big deal."

Rubbing my eyes with my knuckles, I continued, "I mean, I don't even know what we are now. Tonight was the first time we've spoken in almost a week. He's still furious with me."

"Furious?" He crosses his arms. "So, why do you have hickeys on your neck?"

I averted my eyes, the memory returning to me in a flash: crimson and green, black viscous ooze in my veins, _"Never say no to me, Bella." Never, never, never._

"Hey, what's wrong? You're shaking."

I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the memories. _No, that night didn't exist. _

"I'm fine." I traced the tender skin along the side of my neck. "These? I- We just need each other. I can't stop it if I tried."

"So, that's what his need looks like?" Jake raised his eyebrows. "But he doesn't need you enough to forgive you because of the 'lying'?" Jake shook his head, muttering, "Unbelievable!" under his breath. "You move in with him and tried to help him out with this play, and he's still mad? He needs to get a fucking grip. Is he some prince who shits gold?"

"He's been through a lot," I proposed. "And I was the last person he expected would hurt him."

"But you didn't. You were trying to help him, and love him. He never loved you. He hurt you. He hurt you so bad, you don't even realize it."

I rubbed my arms as a sudden wind gust slammed into us. Jake pinched the tips of his ears.

"You didn't see him that day..." I hated how he was back to making Edward a bad guy; he wasn't. I was the one who set this in motion.

"I don't have to. I know what you're feeling right now." He couldn't be more wrong. "I went through it, too. I thought Leah cheating on me was my fault. I should've been a better boyfriend. She wouldn't've put her hand on someone else's dick if I was better. Then, she did it again, Bells. She hurt me again, because that's who she is. It wasn't my fault, like this isn't yours."

For the first time since high school, I felt like Jake didn't understand me. He didn't read this situation correctly at all. I was _not _him. "No, you're wrong. I- I'm Leah."

He did a double-take. "I didn't just hear that."

"I am. And Edward had to leave last summer. He had to see his father. He knew that I was fine, and that I am fine. I'm alive, and his father will die, probably by Christmas. It was more than about my lie. He left because he had to go to his dad."

He pulled at his right earlobe with the most peculiar expression on his face, like bewilderment and amusement and panic all in one. Taking a step closer to me, he loosened the hood at my cheeks. Then, he lifted my earlobes, running his finger behind both of my ears then down the sides of my neck.

"What-" I swatted at his hands and wiggled my head from side to side. "What're you doing?"

"Oh nothing. Just checking for probes."

"Stop messing around, Jake." I pushed him away, pulling down the strings. I didn't really need the hood anymore, though. I was roasting under these layers of cotton, now. In a couple of minutes, I would be an oven.

"I'm not. It's the only thing that makes sense. You got an alien's device somewhere on your body that's making you act all wonky."

"Be serious. I did something terrible to him, just like Leah did to you."

"Wow!" His laugh was bitter. "Am I gonna have to call an exorcist?"

Suddenly, my chest blossomed with heat. It was so intense, I had to lean against the wall. I had never felt like this before. This was heavenly.

"Edward." I breathed, licking my cracked lips.

"Umm... what?" He looked left, then over his shoulder. "Where?" His hands balled into fists. Baring his teeth, he began saying, "When I get my hands on that-" Then, he stopped once he saw me.

"Whoa! Why're you all pink? What the hell?"

"He's here," I whispered. "Edward's here."

"But, I don't... see anyone." His eyebrows raised in an almost comical way.

"He's coming." Feeling my way down the rough cold wall, I took a couple of steps back towards the entrance. The emptiness no longer seized me. My feet touched the ground again with weight and force. I blushed from head to toe.

Jake blinked, wrapping his arm around me. "I won't leave until you see a doctor." He sounded petrified. "Come on."

Every breath I took was light and quick. I was expelling all the dead air inside of me. The tingles spread up to my face and into my eyes so that for a second, I saw stars. When I pushed Jake away, he barely budged but didn't have to. The moment my hands left his chest, the tingles drained from my body. My stomach filled as my eyes latched onto the most welcome sight.

In a sprint, Edward turned off the sidewalk and ran towards us. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was wild around his head. His black pea coat was open, flapping behind him as he neared Jake's back.

"Hey! Get off her!" His voice was ragged. Spotting a scratch on his cheek, my stomach churned. It wasn't a deep cut, but it marred his face from below his eye to his chin.

Whoever did that to him had to go down. He might have that mark forever.

My wonder at the assailant quickly ebbed when I watched him grab Jake's arm and yank him away from me. He stood a couple inches shorter than Jake and was half his size even before he had lost all the weight. Still, he managed to make Jake back off. This gave me some breathing room to tell Edward,

"No, Edward! Don't!"

My words barely escaped my lips when Jake whirled around, his chin in Edward's face, and a fiery spark in his eyes. He would look intimidating to anyone who didn't know him. His ferocity even made Edward stumble back, although he didn't back down. Neither backed down. As Edward stood toe-to-toe with him, I was afraid that in the next few seconds, both would end up on the ground with their faces marred by more than just scratches.

"You're never gonna touch her again," Jake spat, jabbing Edward on his shoulder. "You hear me?"

"If you do that one more time, kid..." Edward remarked with a hiss.

"You'll what? Hurt me like you hurt her?"

"Jake, I told you-" I made a move to stand between them, but the way Edward blanched made me stop in my tracks. He gulped, glancing down at me. Then, he sneered up at Jacob.

"What goes on between Bella and me-" He didn't have the accent, tonight.

"You think you have _any_ right to her after what you did?" Jake was sweating. His eyes were dark and heavy with disgust. "You fucked Alice, didn't you? That's why she's fucked up, too."

Edward pursed his lips, a low whistle escaping from his lips. A confused amusement played in his eyes as he faced me. "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing. Jake's leaving," I said. I folded my arms across my chest.

"Bella." Jake turned to me. "You can't be serious."

Pushing the hood off my head, I said, "A lot has happened over the last few months that you just can't understand." I stood between them as Edward backed away. He was close behind me, though. He was so close, I could feel his warm breath on the crown of my head. He was breathing fast, as fast as I was. "I'm sorry I'm not the girl you knew in high school. She's gone and never coming back."

"I won't just let you-"

"Let me? Who are you to decide what I can and cannot do?"

"So the aliens gave you your brain back? Now, you're the tough chick I knew back home? All for this loser?" Jacob reached out for my arm, but Edward was too quick for him. His left arm wrapping around my waist, he pulled me back until we were about a foot away from Jake.

"Bella's fine, now," Edward said behind me. He was so warm. I wanted to snuggle into his chest. "She doesn't need you to protect her." His heartbeat slowed at my back, and I tried to follow suit.

"Who's gonna protect her? You? You really think I'm gonna just stand back and let you mess with her?" Jake cracked his knuckles. His sneer turned grim, and his eyes fell to mine like feathers. "Bella, you can't do this. You're not Leah, or me. You're better than anyone I know. You deserve better."

"Jake, please." I clutched Edward's forearm, which he pressed tight over my stomach. My heart sung like a choir on Easter Sunday. This felt so right. I was home. "I don't wanna fight about this."

"What am I supposed to do, Bella? When he abandons you again-"

"I won't," Edward said. I squeezed his arm as he squeezed my waist. _What? Was he saying-? What about "never"? _

"Bella-" Jake started.

"Please, just leave. I'm fine."

His mouth went slack, and he just stood there for a while. All of a sudden, his phone rang. It was an unfamiliar song, but it sounded like one of his. The song hit an intense point when he pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and answered.

"What?" He said into his cell phone but continued staring at us. Edward wrapped his other arm around my waist, and he buried his face into my neck. Just like during the summer, he breathed me in.

"I'm kinda in the middle of- What do you mean I gotta go now? I told that- Will you quit interrupting me? Damn! I'll see you in fifteen minutes. Fuck."

Jake tapped the screen with his thumb and shoved his hand into his pockets. His eyes remained on mine as he closed the short gap between us. They were still pleading for a girl who was gone. I was brand new. I had changed into someone Edward wouldn't have wanted me to be because of Alice, and I hated that version of myself. Now, it was time to be better. Some of what Alice and Jake had said were right. I deserved real love. Edward and I could make that happen. We had to.

"Here's your phone." Jake produced it from his pocket and offered it to me. "Call me if you need anything." Edward lifted his head from my neck and rested his cheek against my temple. It was the cheek with the scratch.

"She won't," Edward muttered above my ear.

Looking over my shoulder, I frowned at him. "That's not necessary."

He shrugged. "But it's true."

Triple axels rocked in my stomach. _He- What if he- He's forgiven me? Just like that? No, something's going on._

Taking the phone from Jake's hands, I looked up at him again.

"I'm sorry, Jake." My voice cracked.

Slowly, he lowered his head, his eyes on Edward's and my interlocked arms. When he met my gaze again, his eyes were hard like coal.

"You say that like it makes a difference." He tilted his head to the side. "See you after Thanksgiving, Bells." He stared at Edward as he said this, as if this were a threat. Then, he turned around and walked away.

I raised my hand to Edward's cheek. It was rough with day-old scruff.

He sighed into my neck. "Thank God you're alright." He kissed my temple.

"Of course I'm alright. You sounded so worried earlier. Did something happen?"

"I was so afraid that Alice hurt you, Bella."

"Why?" I asked as I traced the scratch on his cheek with my finger.

When Edward turned me around, I finally had a closer look at him. He had dark circles under his eyes. Worse, his eyes were shredded. He looked like he had seen a ghost prior to coming here and begged it to kill him only to be turned away. Now, his crimson and green were languid with relief.

"I heard about Alice and... I thought I'd lost you."

"But she was the one who overdosed." He stared at me as I spoke. It was a strange look, one that I would've never expected after the last time he was in my apartment. He was amazed by me, searching my face, my neck, and hands. Blushing, I backed away, hugging myself.

"A- And-" I took a deep breath, finally getting a chance to say what I was too afraid to say for days now. "You're concerned now, after you blocked my phone number. And you sent me my clothes, and..." My voice wavered. "You left again."

His brows furrowed, he cupped my face in his hands, making me get all hot from my scalp to my toes. He didn't say anything, though. He stroked my jaw, instead, as if it would change anything. I pulled his hands down.

"Talk to me."

"Okay." He sighed. "Okay, but not here."

"Where?" I swallowed the lump in my throat. My heart thrummed.

His eyes traveled down to the end of the block, but they were envisioning something farther. "Somewhere where no one will interrupt us."

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**A/N: **

**Next chapter changes everything.**

**Bye. :)**


	45. Chapter 42 God and Monster

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author. **

**A/N: Hi :)**

**More answers this chapter. Please, if you're confused, tell me. Thanks for the dedication, ladies. There should be eight chapters left.**

**Thanks to my team. Always awesome.**

* * *

**Chapter 42- God and Monster**

**November 21, 2010**

The Drama Building's lobby was just as majestic and warm as it was the last time Edward and I were here. Some new posters adorned the walls: _Vagina Monologues,_ a retelling of _The Matrix _called"The Red Pill." The lights were just as dim, softening Edward's ruddy cheeks. His hands were still cold, though. Walking down Bank Street this afternoon, he held me close to him, closer than he did the last time we came here. The winds were much more merciful on us back in May.

Rubbing his right hand in both of mine, I followed Edward to the booth where a guy with messy blond hair refused to let us into the auditorium.

"Who are you?" He asked Edward with his forehead lined in confusion.

"I'm Edward Cullen." Edward drew his lips to the right side. "I starred in last term's production of Hamlet. And in Death of a Salesman the semester before that."

"Really? You have proof?"

"I don't need it, man. Look, I'm just trying to talk to my girlfriend, alright? It's Sunday. There's no show."

The guy leaned forward. "I won't be able to let you up." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, to which Edward reached into his pocket and handed him twenty dollars. He nodded once, giving us the go ahead. Edward was breathing too quickly as he pulled me away from the booth.

"Asshole," Edward muttered under his breath when we arrived at the foot of the grand staircase.

"He doesn't matter." I stroked his arm.

Edward stared down at me, his eyes wider than all the seas on earth. He said nothing. Instead, he kissed my forehead and walked on.

With every step up the carpeted staircase, I felt like I was going back in time to when I knew nearly nothing about this man holding my hand. I knew he loved the stage, his favorite films, his brother's name. I thought it was enough to love him back then, but I was fooling myself. I didn't know what love was until he walked out the door to our penthouse. I knew what it was like to live without him, and that life _wasn't_. To love him was to live, something I couldn't do when he wasn't walking, breathing, and speaking beside me. I became the absolute worst version of myself without him. I made so many mistakes as we discovered each other, but it was nothing compared to what I did when he was gone.

I had become lost in Alice's self-determined version of reality. I didn't know which way was up with her. At least with Edward, I could feel him and know there was something real. Being in Alice's orbit put me on shaky ground. I could talk to her for days and never come face to face with the truth.

Walking up these steps with Edward, I was hopeful. He was still gone. He wasn't the Edward I fell in love with. He'd been the easy, abusive stranger since he walked into my apartment, then a deserter once more. But he would come back today, after our talk. Despite his past silences, I felt like he would open up to me for good. Like Ben had said last August,

_"There's a difference between keeping things private and out and out deceiving someone."_

Edward kept so much from me before, but that time had passed. We would share everything now. He wouldn't keep anything else bottled up inside. There would be no pain, no fury, no sorrow to separate us. We would speak our truths and be bound forever. This was why he didn't want to be interrupted. And we were in this place, the theater where we shared our love for the first time, because he wanted to reclaim that magic. I could feel this was what he wanted. We weren't connected like we were right before he left. I couldn't read him as well anymore. Nevertheless, something felt so right about us being back here in our bubble. He had to feel this, too, even if he might be with Jane again.

I remembered those nights he came to my bed, Jacques Torres chocolate still on his tongue. I had hoped they were from Ben, but if Jane was back in the play, she must've been the one to give them to him. Ben had said even _she_ hadn't known where Edward was when he disappeared. Maybe I was wrong to think they were together. He'd held me close to him throughout our argument with Jake like Jane wasn't a factor. He'd been in a panic on the phone as if I were the number one woman in his life again.

_"You don't have to do anything but be with me." _He had said this over the phone as if the last few months hadn't happened. Why? And why was he so worried that Alice would hurt me? And was I right before? Was he the direct cause of her overdose?

When we arrived at the top of the stairs, he stopped us. Wrapping his right arm around me, he asked, "Do you remember the last time we were here?"

I nodded as he kissed me on the top of my head. He squeezed my hand and led me through the doors of the auditorium.

"I was so sure of myself," I murmured. His palm felt grainy between both of my hands. My thumbs kneaded into his skin as we made our way down the aisle and toward the stage. This was where he had told me he read all of my notes on Facebook, every article in The Golden Onion and admired "The Liberated Woman." He'd said this but refused me when I'd asked about the Public Theater contract only an hour earlier, that contract and Jane.

"You knew what you wanted, Bella. Some people never do or never have the chance to."

His tone deepened when we arrived at the stage, and Carlisle came to mind. Chances were running out for his dad.

Edward turned to me and hoisted me up. I swung my legs to and fro as he joined me up on the stage floor. We began swinging our legs.

He lifted his right leg, resting his ankle on his knee.

I crossed my ankles, then recrossed them.

"I wanna-"

"I'm sor-"

We both started simultaneously and stopped.

He ran his hand through his hair.

"You first," he said, glancing down at the scratched-up black floor between our thighs. Both of legs were jiggling. He raised his head to look straight ahead, out to the half dozen doors at the exit.

"I'm sorry about the lies," I said in a rush. "And about Alice and the money and Jake being an ass today. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be," he said quietly. His clenched jaw loosened up, then tightened again.

"But I do." I swallowed all of the questions in my throat. _Where were you the last three days? Did you see Alice? Who scratched your cheek? _"I understand it if you never trust me again. I get why you sent me all my things and blocked me. But it hurt, Edward." I took a deep breath, hoping to keep my voice steady. "More than... more than anything."

"There were a lot of reasons why I've been avoiding you, why I wanted to keep my distance." He said this with a coolness of a popsicle.

"They seemed obvious to me." My voice shook. "You wanna move on... or you have already. "

Passing his hands over his eyes, he remained silent until I said my last few words. Then, his eyes snapped to mine.

"No, I haven't." He made a move to touch my leg, but he clasped his hands together on his lap, instead. "That is unfathomable to me."

_Unfathomable. So, he's not with Jane? Has he forgiven me? _I lifted my left leg to turn and face him. "So, why did you mail all of my-"

"I'm fucked up," he said under his breath with an averted eye. Then, he sniffed, scratching the tip of his nose. "It was getting harder to see your _things_ and not you. And I should've sent them earlier. You needed your clothes. You even left your phone."

"But I didn't need them, not after..."

"I know she bought replacements," he said in a matter of fact tone. He picked at a hangnail on his thumb. His voice was somber. "Your comforter... the color... If I remember, that was Alice's favorite color."

I bowed my head to search for his eyes, expecting fury. Instead, I found regret and disappointment below his blond lashes. "I gave them all away. All of it. It's why I'm wearing these clothes, now." I pulled at the edge of the hoodie as he shut his eyes. "I would've never accepted any of her things if I didn't absolutely need them."

"But you did, and that's my fault." His gaze returned to the exit.

"No, it's mine. I deserved it. I lied to you."

He shook his head. "You shouldn't feel so guilty. Even if you told me the day you found out about my dad, it wouldn't've changed anything. He's gonna be rotting in a coffin in a month."

His dry tone punched me in the gut. "How- How is he?" My voice was like a shy but very curious kitten. His jaw tightened, and he wiped his hands down his thighs.

"He's okay." His head dropped and tilted a bit to the right to watch his right hand move from his leg to mine. He squeezed it as I hitched a breath. Pulling at the collar of the hoodie, my cheeks flushed.

"He won't quit," he continued quietly. "He keeps going to get second opinions from doctors who've already told him he has no chance at recovery. Emmett thinks he's delusional about all this, but I don't. I-" Edward's voice faded. He shifted a bit closer to me. His fingers spread down to the middle of my thigh. Then, he stared out to the exit again.

"Why don't you agree with Emmett?" I took his clammy hand from my thigh and held it between my hands.

"I think he's losing his memory, Bella." He interlocked our fingers. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. "That's why he keeps asking for second opinions."

My stomach churned. "Why would you say that? What kind of cancer is it?"

He bowed his head, rubbing his cheek with his left hand, remaining silent for a minute. I stroked his back until he lifted his head. From his profile, I saw his crimson and green eyes lock on the doors. They had clicked shut when we walked in. Edward stared at them as if he were willing them to open again with his mind.

"Edward, please talk to me."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't even pronounce it. I just know he's losing his ability to speak or understand us. He recognizes us. He can walk and stuff, even though the chemo zapped his energy, but he has these fits that last a couple minutes where he can't speak. It's all jumbled, like he's babbling, like he's saying words backwards and creating a new language. In one of his fits, he tried to say one word for five minutes. Emmett and I couldn't figure it out until he got out of it. Then, he told us he was trying to say my name."

"I'm sorry."

He didn't look at me. He didn't even react. He just stared.

I held his hand up to my lips. "Maybe he will find a miracle," I mumbled into his warm skin. My lips brushed against his knuckles, which had tiny red scars across the ridge. Remnants of the wall he punched at our penthouse. "Maybe someone will be able to cure him, and he'll outlive all of us."

Edward emitted a hollow laugh, turning his head away again. "It's stage four cancer, Bella. No one can operate on that side of his brain. He just won't accept it, like he won't accept a lot of things."

"You never know."

"I do!" He slammed his left hand down onto the stage. His grip on my hand loosened and he let go. "I don't wanna talk about him anymore. Can we talk about something else?" He got up on his feet and walked behind me to the middle of the stage. "I didn't bring you here to talk about this shit."

I turned around to watch him pace. "Why, then? Why'd you bring me here?" I asked quietly.

"Because..." He met the black curtain at the back of the stage, standing with his arms akimbo. "I've been thinking about the last time we were here. I think about it everyday. All the things we said, Bella..."

"Our promises." I got up on my knees and sat back on my heels. _Yes, he wanted that magic!_

"You were_ so_ sure. You didn't question me." He turned his head to the right so that his profile greeted me once more. "You wanted to keep my promise even though we barely knew each other." He looked up at the multi-colored stage lights hanging over us. "Remember?"

"I didn't know what I was thinking back then. I thought I knew all I needed to know about you, and that nothing could change how I felt. Nothing in my life felt as good, as right, as being with you. I thought changing wasn't gonna be an issue, because I didn't understand what love does to people. But it was inevitable, Edward. I changed every moment I spent with you."

He stared at the black curtain again, unresponsive. After a minute, I said,

"Say something, please. I'm sorry that I can't keep this promise for you. But we can be as happy as we were that day. We can be hopeful. I won't lie to you again, if that's-"

"I left you." His gruff voice trampled on my words. "I shouldn't have, and I did. I should've taken you with me to L.A., but I couldn't do it." He rambled, sounding more like he was talking to himself. Slowly turning to face me, he said to me, "If I had known all this was gonna happen with Alice, I wouldn't have left you here."

He walked over and knelt in front of me.

"I keep going back and forth in my mind about this." I grabbed his arms and clung him to me. He let me cling.

"Back and forth about what?"

He swallowed words that his eyes expressed clearly: shame.

"Alice..." he murmured. "... cemented my decision."

"What decision? And how could Alice cement anything with you?"

He stroked my lips with his thumb. "She could die, something I thought I'd wanted for the last seven years of my life. I thought she deserved to suffer. Now she is, and it's based on reasons I never would've expected."

"What reasons?" I asked. _How could he know her reasons?_ _Did he see her in the past few days? _He pressed his thumb down on my lips again.

"Her reasons are beside the point," he uttered. I pulled his hand down.

"No, they're not." Edward cocked his eyebrow, but I continued. "What do you know?"

"Bella-"

"Even her mom... and Erik! Even he doesn't know why she did it. He suspects, but he doesn't know. And you do? Were you the reason why she overdosed?"

He hesitated before nodding. He grasped my shoulders. "I am and..." He pressed his forehead to mine with a mesmerizing gaze. "I don't want you to feel guilty, okay?"

"Why would-" The rest of my sentence was swallowed by the solemnity in his eyes. "I'd feel guilty because it's- It's my fault, too?"

Nodding, he said. "A few days ago, the morning after I left your apartment, she told me she was in love with you."

I faltered. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. "What?"

"She charged into our home, demanding to see me." My stomach tightened when he said "our." "She attacked me. I had to stop Vincent from calling the police and promised I'd be okay without the authorities' involvement. But she refused to leave until she told me everything that happened here the past few months."

"What did she say_?_"

Edward wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "She said you almost died when I left."

I shook my head vigorously. "It was a panic attack." I took a deep breath. "I did _not _almost die."

"She said you fainted and that you were unconscious for hours. That sounds like more than just a panic attack."

"Alice overreacted." I groaned. "She shouldn't've told you that."

"I'm glad she did. I'm glad she told me how you were doing well again, with school, and meeting new friends, and getting on the right track. She said you were happier without me."

"'Happier'? That's what she called it?" Pulling at the hem of my t-shirt, I frowned. "I was so empty, I felt like I could float away." I shook my head slowly. "She told you what she wanted you to believe."

Edward cocked his head to the side. "So, you didn't do better in school? Or make new friends?"

"I did, but-"

"Alice tried to convince me that I should stay away from you that night. She wouldn't leave until I swore to her that I would."

"So, you did? Just like that? You blocked my number because of her?"

"She didn't convince me. She didn't have to." He folded his legs in front of him, Indian Style.

"So, you're sure now?" I scoffed. "You're sure I'm happier if you stay away?"

"I don't know. I keep thinking how impossible it would be. Even considering it is impossible. I hold you in my arms, and it feels so right."

"This _is _right."

He took my hands in his, his thumbs drawing circles on the back of each one.

"I don't think I can experience anything worse in my life than what I did the last few days. My mom's death, Jasper's, Liam's, none of those matched what I felt when I tried to stop seeing you. Everything in this city reminded me of you. I ride the subway and remembered being inside of you for the first time. And rehearsal's the worst. I saw that picture of your haircut on Facebook. You looked so much like Elizabeth," Edward said, sending my heart into overdrive. Alice and Frank, her hairstylist, had called me "Ms. Taylor" because they thought I resembled her so much. Hearing this from Edward, though, meant so much more. "You're all I see when I'm on stage. Jane doesn't exist. No one does."

I blushed again, and he sighed, holding my face in his hands.

"So..." I reached up, stroking the tender scratch on his face. "When Alice attacked you..."

He took my hand, holding it against his heart. "You don't have to worry about it."

I spread my fingers and wriggled my hands out of his grasp. "I thought you wanted to talk to me."

He furrowed his eyebrows. When the viridian appeared in his eyes, I gasped.

"Jane." I rubbed the scratch down near his lips. No one put that look in his eyes but her.

"I won't discuss her with you. She's not an issue. She'll never be an issue."

I pressed my palm onto his chest. It was firm, but not like it used to be. If we were ever gonna get back to that good place, when he was more than flesh and bone, he couldn't keep her locked in there. No matter how much it hurt to see him get agitated, secrets only hurt worse. He should've realized that after what we went through with Carlisle.

I huffed. "We _are_ discussing her." I followed his long legs lengthen then stand up to walk around me to the front of the stage. He faced me with amusement lighting up his eyes. "You said you'd never let her work on this play. You said she wasn't coming back, yet here she is, getting exactly what she wants."

Scratching his jaw, he grew pensive.

"Why did she scratch your face?" I sat down and pulled my knees up to my chin.

"I really don't wanna get into this, now."

"But you _will_," I pressed.

"I will, just not today. Look," he started with his eyebrows furrowed. He looked squarely into my eyes. "I've lost so many people: my mom, Jasper, Liam this summer. And they weren't just any people; they were the best people I knew. To watch them leave one after another sent me into a really dark place that took so much strength to climb out of. And with my dad, I sunk so fast, I didn't recognize it. He deteriorates with every second. It was almost like watching him die every day when I was in L.A." He lowered his hand to my jaw. "So when Alice told me you had the panic attack because of me..." He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "Bella, I can't lose you."

"But you're the one who keeps disappearing. Where were you last week?"

"I just flew back to L.A. and stayed in my dad's cabin in Big Bear. It was a fucking waste of time."

"Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?" _You should've told me. _"What if you'd gotten hurt?"

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't get hurt, did I?"

I fidgeted with a button on his coat for a moment without an answer. Then, "You said it didn't help?"

"No, Bella, because for a couple days, I wondered if there should even be an 'us.'"

"What?"

He took my hands in his to hold between us. He stared at our interlocked fingers as he spoke, never looking up.

"I don't think I'm capable of giving you anything but misery. Ever since we made love behind those curtains, and made these promises to each other, I've systematically made it harder to keep those promises. You lost your internship because of me."

"_I_ lost my internship."

"Alice wouldn't've thought to worm her way into your life if it wasn't for me."

"Alice was already in my life."

"Your skin would be pink and soft and unblemished without me."

"Edward, stop. Those things are _my_ fault, not yours. I wanted you to take your pain out on me. I lied to you, not because of Alice, but because I thought it was the only way to keep you happy. It was me."

"I did everything Jacob said I did. I hurt you." He unlocked our fingers to draw a circle around one of the hickeys on my neck. Then, he took my wrist, pulling the sleeve of my hoodie back. Yellow surrounded blue-purple dots. "You said no, and I didn't listen."

I shook my head. "You needed me. It's okay."

He grimaced. "You've been covered in bruises for weeks now because of me."

"I don't regret them." I wriggled my arms out of his hands. Then, looking up into his averted face, I took the frayed bottom of the hoodie in my hands and lifted it up over my head. I heard him hiss as it passed over my eyes. Bringing it down between us, I watched his somber gaze fall to my forearms. The imprint left from his fingers were like butterscotch tattoos. My yellow t-shirt hid the rest.

Soon, they would all fade.

"They're disappearing, see? I'm fine. It didn't hurt. You needed me to feel better, and I gave myself to you because I love you."

He took my right forearm in his hands. Tentatively, he brought it forward onto his lap.

"You said no, and I kept going anyway." He didn't look me in my eye when he said this, so I lowered my head to meet him.

"You didn't rape me."

He blinked, focusing on me. As we raised our heads together, I leaned forward. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his so that our eyes couldn't part.

"I shouldn't've blamed you or said all those vicious things the... last time." His eyes were so green when he said this, the purest green.

"It's okay." I rubbed my forehead against his.

"I was a monster."

"No."

His eyes widened. Slowly, he swiped his thumb across my bottom lip with a wistful look in his eyes.

"You're so sure. Always so sure."

I blushed. "This... Us... We'll always be a sure thing. "

His blond lashes like curtains, he lowered his gaze to my forearms once more. When he looked up again, his eyes never left mine. He stroked my forearms so tenderly as we entered this new kind of silence. The awkward nature of the air before dissipated, although a murkiness weighed us down in a different way. Something was off.

He hugged me, resting his rough cheek to mine. Then, he uttered in my ear something that made my heart race and added weight to the dense air.

"This was one of the reasons why I sent you your things and blocked your phone."

I tried to pull away, to see his expression, but he held me to him. With our bodies pressed up against each other, I breathed him in.

"Because I'm sure of us?"

Edward shook his head.

"Every time I touched you over the last week, Bella, I got so angry at you for looking at me like this." He dropped his head into my neck, his lips warm on my skin. I swallowed slowly, feeling his heartbeat pound above my chest.

"Like what?"

"Like I was still the guy you fell for all those months ago," he mumbled. "I was still this perfect guy you put on a pedestal. A-And sometimes, I needed it, Bella."

He let go of me and lifted his forehead to mine. With his lips an inch away, he tapped the corners of my eyes.

"After the hell I went through during rehearsal, I'd be able to see you at night, see these eyes." He tapped them again. "You made me feel like a god every night. I felt invincible when I held you, like I could do anything, and I relished it. I even manipulated it, to see if you _wouldn't _look at me the same way.

"The first night I saw your bruises..." He huffed, looking away. Sometimes his lips would brush against mine, sending shivers up my spine. They were so soft, like cotton candy. The next few words that tumbled out weren't as soft.

"I watched you relish each time I hurt you, and it sickened me, Bella. I almost didn't come back because of it, but I had to. I was kidding myself thinking I could go a day without seeing you. You were the one with the reins. I was a slave to you, not a god.

"When you wanted to talk that last night, that sealed the truth: you were in control. I thought if I was hard enough, I would be in control again. I needed to put you in your place so that you would see me for who I really am. After I came..." His voice cracked. "All over you..." he began to whisper. "Your eyes... Bella, they glowed, I swear. That's when I freaked."

"My eyes glowed?" My heart beat as quickly as his. My hands were shaky as my thumbs brushed his cheeks. He nodded.

"And all my nerves got shot, like it felt when we first kissed. Do you remember?"

"I do." I breathed. My tongue and lips were numb from that kiss. "That was why you began shaking your hand, like you did when you came to my apartment that first night. And when we were in your dressing room last May, that first time we parted, I remember how you did the same thing. Your fingers flex too, sometimes."

He nodded vigorously. "I always feel weird seeing you. It's like my body can't handle it, like all... all these chemical reactions occur at once."

"Yes."

"You feel it, too."

I nodded once.

"I can tell. Your skin blushes all over, so beautifully, Bella."

I blushed now, and he quickly caressed my cheeks. "You're irresistible when you blush, you know that?"

We gazed into each other's eyes, silent as we basked some more. Then, he let go of my cheek, frowning.

"For days, you were black and blue. Your wrists looked like they were covered in oil that last night. I did that to your beautiful skin because I needed you. I used you to feel the power you willingly gave me."

"But, your dad. I thought you were..." I swallowed the thick saliva in my mouth. "..._like that_ because you were angry with me. You said you would never forgive me."

"I didn't know what I was saying. I wasn't thinking straight. I hated myself for what I did, and I had nowhere to put that hate and frustration. So, I gave it to you because I knew it would hurt you."

"This is just skin. It heals. You only hurt me by leaving."

"God, your voice..." His thumb slid down my neck.

"You said..." I gulped. "You said you never wanted to hear me speak again."

"Because-" He took a deep breath. "Your voice was so different from what your eyes told me. It wasn't all the time, but most times, you worshipped me with your eyes. You pitied me with your voice. Once I kissed you, the pity went away."

"Sometimes, you look at me in the same way. Like you're in awe of me."

He nodded. "I've never been with a girl who'd accept me for all the shit I've put you through the last few months. Yet you not only accept it, you've forgiven me for it. How could I _not_ be in awe of someone whose heart is as big as yours? I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."

"Edward-"

"I wanna... I love... I thought I loved you, but I'm not capable of it. Not now."

"You are. I know it. This feels too right."

"We can't keep this going based on what we _feel__!_" he exclaimed. "I can't leave another bruise on your skin when I need you too much."

"I'll help you."

Wiping his mouth, Edward looked at me incredulously.

"How?"

"I- I don't know."

"You think I should go see a doctor, don't you?"

"I don't know, Edward."

He cursed. "My dad threw every doctor at me after the incident with Alice. They gave me meds and told me I had ten different things wrong with me. None of it was right. I got better when I was on stage. And the girls that I've been with before..." Edward's eyes shut tight. "I never hurt them like I hurt you."

"Edward, I told you. I'm fine."

"You confuse me, Bella. With you, I feel like I can look into your eyes and believe I'm a good man when I've become the worst man."

"No, you made a mistake and now it's time for us to be stronger together. We were so close before. We can be close again."

He shook his head the entire time I spoke.

"Maybe with time," he murmured. "Things will change. Maybe we can make each other happy. But for now..." He sighed. "Bella, I need a break."

"No." He let go of my arms. "No! No."

His gaze was intense. "You've suffered too much." He backed away to the edge of the stage, but I pulled him back into me. I pressed my face into his chest.

"You can't leave me." I could feel my heart screaming in my chest. "Not again. Not again." _Not the dread. Not the emptiness. Not again._ I clung to him. He let me cling.

After a few moments of feeling his heartbeat slow, and feeling him loosen my hold around his back, He whispered, "We will never be finished. I will never stop loving you. But it's time I loved you right, not as someone I use to escape."

"I won't let you. You won't hurt me. I won't let you hurt me. It's that simple."

That made him drop his head. What he said next made me sink back onto my heels again.

"I'm afraid, Bella."

I caressed his cheek. His jaw was tense until I stopped and brought my hand down to his chest.

"Don't be," I stated.

"Sooner or later, I'll hurt you so badly, you'll never find happiness again. You'll wither away like every other person who's loved me too much."

My lower lip quivered. I bit it to stop it. My heart beat too quickly. I took a deep breath to slow it down.

"We're gonna love each other right," I whispered so that he wouldn't hear how shaky my voice was. "It'll be just enough, baby."

His eyes shone with tears.

"Bella-"

I caressed both of his cheeks, then traced the scratch of origins unknown. Slowly, I pulled his face down to mine and pressed my lips to his. His trembled as my delicate pecks turned into something deeper. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him gently. He sighed onto my lips as we parted, burying his face into my neck.

"I can love you like this, Edward." I stroked his hair. My fingers got lost in his bright red waves.

He didn't respond. I couldn't find his eyes, and his heart beat slowly. It was hard for me to read him, but I felt the murkiness from before finally clear up.

With his scruff scratching my neck, Edward clung to me. I let him cling.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Final stretch.**

**Bye :)**


	46. Chapter 43 Pastoral

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author. **

**A/N: Hi :)**

**Thanks team. Got this done way way last minute, and you still came through. Love you ladies!**

**Sorry, this is another long chapter. I'm trying to cut it down, I really am!**

* * *

**Chapter 43- Pastoral**

**November 21, 2010**

When we left The New School, Edward and I headed for the penthouse.

It was a mess. I slipped on a couple of shirts and accidentally kicked beer bottles on my way to the stairs. As soon as the putrid chicken on the coffee table hit my nose, I held my breath.

I tried and succeeded to avoid anything else in the living room. Being so close to it again was probably another reason why I held my breath.

"_Maybe I never knew you. Bella Swan, you're a stranger. I never saw you. I never loved you."_

"Sorry for the mess. I'm rarely home," Edward said sheepishly. His cheeks became rosy.

Taking his hand, I pulled him toward the stairs, my eyes and throat burning from the memories.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He squeezed my hand at the foot of the staircase. I stood in front of him, facing upwards. After a deep breath, I swallowed down the tears to turn around and give him a smile.

"Nothing, I'm fine." I bit my lip as I took a step, but Edward stopped me, saying,

"It was hard for me, too, being back here." His thumbs drew circles so softly on the back of my hands. His eyes were as soothing as menthol as he joined me on the step. "I'm so sorry. So so sorry."

I nodded slowly, feeling the tears fall, feeling him wipe them away.

"I'll never hurt you again," he said. I let his words soak in. No sorrow, no fury, no accent.

I didn't hear the stranger; I heard Edward.

Leading him up the stairs, I found our bedroom to be even messier. One crumpled item near the headboard looked particularly out of place:

It was one of my t-shirts, the one I had worn the night we met.

"I couldn't let this one go," Edward said behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, walking me to the bed. Balling the shirt into his fists, he tossed it over to the loveseat near the window.

"I never wanna sleep without you," he said into my ear.

_Never. _

"Neither do I," I whispered.

The memory of the day he left quickly faded as we lay in bed. We didn't spoon like we used to do. Instead, Edward pulled my face up close to his. His thumb caressed my cheek until his eyelids began to droop and my mind filled with dreams of his green pools.

**November 23, 2010**

The awkward murkiness that had weighed us down on Sunday grew heavier each day.

Yesterday, I had stared at my white t-shirt on the loveseat and hoped the boxes of clothes at the apartment would soon join it. For the last couple of days, Edward had held me like he had wanted me to do the same thing. Whenever he had walked through the door after a long day of rehearsal, he would hold me for what seemed like five minutes before letting go.

It was all we did for the last two days, though. He wouldn't kiss me. His touches were tender, as if I were made of glass and about to shatter at any moment. Worse, his eyes were stern and told me he wasn't ready for me to bring the rest of my clothes back here. So, I never went back to my apartment and spent my days in his t-shirts, boxers, and socks upstairs in our bedroom.

He kept me an arm's length away, like he did after the incident at his apartment last summer. Unlike last summer, however, we rarely saw each other. The play took up all his days and most of his nights. He only had a month left until opening night, doing things he never talked to me about. It was as if that were a separate world for him. Once he came home, Tennessee never dropped by with him. He was Edward, which I was so thankful for, yet even more taciturn than before. Thus, the awkward murky air between us remained. He came home, held me, and left before I woke up the next morning.

This morning, I opened my eyes to a welcome surprise: him.

Edward lay on his side, his cheek propped up in his hand, his eyes staring at me but still... off. He looked even more conflicted about us, but unlike the days before, he was ready to talk.

"I'm going to L.A. for Thanksgiving, and I wish I could take you with me." Edward said this with a frown, and his eyelids low.

"Edward, I-"

"You must have something planned..."

I shook my head. "No, no plans."

"You should be with family."

_You are my family_, I wanted to say to him. Instead, "My mom's in London. I don't have anyone else."

"What about Jacob?"

"I haven't spoken to him since Sunday, so I don't know."

There was a glint in his eye when I said this, so I pressed him.

"You're just as jealous over Jake as I am over Jane."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I have a right to be."

"And I don't?"

"No, you don't. Jake is still very much a part of your life. Jane isn't. Period."

"Oh, so when she's Maggie on stage, she's invisible to you?"

He rubbed my chin up and down, swiped his thumb across my cheek, and tapped the corners of my eyes. "I see you. Every night, I see only your face, only your eyes. Jane doesn't exist, Bella."

I huffed. His words were nice, but the fact was, he should've chosen someone else to be Maggie. I pulled his hands down to the sheets between us.

"How could you allow this? There are thousands of actresses who could be Maggie right now."

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped to smile again. His body was loose, even though the dense air between us hadn't cleared up.

"She won't give up until she has your mother's ring on her finger again," I mumbled, sitting up. Stretching my arms up over my head for a moment, I felt his hand suddenly clasp my left one. He chuckled as he squeezed it, rattling my nerves. His indifference was unsettling.

"This isn't funny. She sabotaged your workshop, remember? She went behind your back to meet me. And I can imagine that was only the tip of the iceberg. You've known her a lot longer than I have."

"I have." A grin lit up his face.

"Your _best friend_ hates this. But you seem to be enjoying this new addition to your production a whole lot."

"This conversation's gonna stop, now," he said, the amusement in his eyes drying up.

"It's never gonna stop!" I got on my hands and knees as he sat up against the headboard. "Why is she in the play again, hunh? Tell me."

"Because..."

I waited a solid minute, watching him stare straight ahead at the blank wall across from us.

"What? Because what?"

"She got Ben and me by the balls, Bella." He sneered. "She was gonna blacklist us if we didn't let her back in."

"What? How?"

"Literally every person on Broadway would never wanna work with us because of her clout."

"Oh please!" I scoffed. "Like she has that kind of power."

"And Ben thought she was bluffing at first," he continued right over my protest. "We barely had a crew and cast to begin with, but we managed to find classmates to work below scale. She planned to pay them double the rate just to abandon us, Bella. Double. So, not only did she threaten us, she offered incentives to people we needed to leave our production." He punched the mattress a couple of times. "There was nothing Ben and I could do but bring her back into the fold."

"Fuck," I whispered.

"Exactly." He stretched his neck.

"So you see, she won't give up, Edward."

"And?"

"_And_?" I glared at him. "She'll get what she wants with you and she'll tear us apart."

"You really think I'd go back to _that_?"

I folded my arms. "How could I understand what she means to you if you never talk to me about her?"

"You've just..." He looked me square in the eye. "You gotta trust me."

I didn't know what it was, Alice's suicide attempt or Jake's overreaction to my hickeys, or his total non-reaction to my lies, but I wasn't about to just accept anything Edward threw at me anymore. I trusted him blindly from the get go, and it got me in the hospital.

I had a feeling he wouldn't hurt me again. He was just as rattled by what had happened to Alice and Jake's intervention as I was. But trust was something I wasn't ready to give, not until he told me everything, especially about Jane. I could love him. I wanted us to touch and kiss and make love like we used to. Physically, I was sure we would be just as connected. But his trust had to be earned.

I cocked my head to the side as he dropped his face down into his chest. "Really, you'd ask that of me?"

He looked up at me, frowning. "You're right. That would be asking too much of you right now." I sighed. "But I can promise-" he breathed. "I can assure you that whatever plans she may have for me won't change how I feel about _her_. I'm never gonna be into what she has to offer. It's that simple. That's why I never talk about her, Bella, and I never will. Even if I had to work with that... _woman_ for the rest of my life, I wouldn't change my mind."

He seemed so convinced. I wanted to believe him so badly, but he had used that word before and changed his mind: never.

"You said that to me before."

"What?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "When have we ever spoken about Jane?"

"No, not about her," I mumbled. I fidgeted before him and kneeling on my hands. I tried to keep my eyes on his, but it proved difficult due to the harsh memory.

"You told me a week ago that you never wanted to hear me speak again. You said you'd never forgive me. Yet here we are, speaking. And at the Drama Building, you said moving on is unfathomable to you. So, you've forgiven me as well."

"Jane is not _you_."

"Edward-"

He pressed his forefinger to my lips. "You're real. You're _here_." He grabbed my arms and squeezed them. "Really here. She was out for herself in the end, and I could never be with someone that selfish. I need _you_, okay?"

I nodded as he let me go, his hands leaving red splotches on my skin. I would probably bruise.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, wiping the mark on my left arm like it would go away.

"I'll be fine. But you..." I got off my right hand to trace the scratch that was beginning to fade on his cheek. "We should put something on this."

Edward shook his head. "By Thanksgiving, it'll be gone."

"Why did Jane scratch you, Edward?"

He groaned as soon as her name came out of my mouth. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?" He bared his teeth, uttering this question more like a statement.

"No. I wanna know. I don't want secrets between us. I want us to be stronger than we were, and we can't do that if we keep secrets, especially when it comes to her."

He cursed under his breath. "It was an accident! We were rehearsing a scene when I got back from L.A., and she got too wrapped up in the scene. That's all."

I rolled my eyes.

"What?"

"I don't remember Maggie ever raising her hand to Brick. Wasn't she begging him the whole time to fuck her?"

He rubbed his right cheek, something I hadn't seen in months, since the last time we were here. I reached up to touch his face, and he quickly covered my hand. There was a morning's worth of prickly scruff along his jaw.

"That's why it was an accident." He squeezed my hand, and my heart did a little dance as our fingers locked and rested on his lap. He was hard.

"Okay." I crawled up to him, sitting on his lap. "Okay." He promptly repositioned me so that I sat on his left thigh. "So, Thanksgiving?"

He stretched our arms before us, interlocking our fingers.

"I want to take you but..."

"But you don't," I finished for him, my stomach tense. I played with his fingers and thumbs, trying to keep my voice light. "You wanna spend time with your family."

He paused for a second before continuing. His breath was warm on my right shoulder. "I don't know how I'll be able to do it again. It was brutal last week."

"So, I'll come."

He folded his hands over mine so they covered them completely. We were silent for a couple of minutes until he asked,

"What about your dad?"

"I'm never going back to Forks, Edward. I hate it there, everything about it."

"What happened?" He held my hands tighter so that I couldn't open them if I tried.

"He just doesn't know how to be a dad. He's such an asshole. I don't think he ever wanted me in Forks because for four years, I was a thorn on his side. Nothing I did was right, especially not coming to New York to become a journalist. He wanted me to fail, I know it. He wanted to be miserable like he is. Alone and miserable."

"Bella, I had no idea," he mumbled into my shoulder.

"He's in my past, and he'll stay there, as will Forks."

"Okay. Okay, so what if I brought your mom here to you?"

"What?" I squeaked, which startled Edward so much, he released my hands. I turned on his lap to face him.

"You can't be alone, Bella."

"You can't buy my mom a ticket." I was smiling at this gesture yet completely overwhelmed. "She doesn't even know who you are," I blurted out. My face heated up, and I quickly covered it, turning away from him again.

Edward sighed, kissing my shoulder. I inched closer to the middle of his lap and found him to be even harder. "Your blush kills me." Over his t-shirt, which hung loose on me, he slid his hand up and down my side, making my heart flutter.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. I watched his left hand go down my bare left thigh, then stop at the middle.

"Don't ever be sorry, Bella." His words seeped into my skin as his thumb brushed my inner thigh. Then, his hand rested on the sheets. I sighed.

"I'll call my mom to introduce you, but you shouldn't buy a ticket."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'll be fine here. I will."

Mom was pleasantly surprised to hear that I had been in a loving, peaceful relationship with Edward for six months and that he had made me happier than I had ever been in my life. She was even excited to hear his voice.

"He sounds like Jeremy Sisto," she said when she gave the phone back to me. "The jerk in _Clueless_." This was mom's all-time favorite movie. "He's not a jerk, is he?"

I laughed her off, watching him pull on a clean t-shirt and jeans, my heart heavy. After charming my mom on the phone for a couple of minutes, Edward had gotten out of bed to pick out underwear and socks from his dresser. His flight for L.A. was in three hours.

"No, he's not a jerk. Hey Mom, you're not working again on Thanksgiving, are you?"

"I'm sorry honey, I am."

"I'm sorry, too."

Edward pulled out his duffel bag.

"But," she said, stretching out the word. "For the first time since you went to Tisch, I'm free for an entire week for Christmas," my mom said. "So, on December 20th, I'm gonna get the first flight out of Heathrow to see you!"

As Edward pulled my white t-shirt from the loveseat and dropped it into his bag, I felt my knees get numb.

Apprehensively, I told my mom, "Great. I can't wait."

**November ****24, 2010**

There was no turkey this Thanksgiving. No cranberry sauce or stuffing. I baked a chocolate cake for Edward's return tomorrow, the scent of the Dutch chocolate powder and sugar filling the kitchen and wafting down the hallway to the living room. This soothed me until I placed the cake in a cake pan and into the fridge. The dread returned soon after, and I ran back upstairs to my cell phone to call Edward.

He never picked up. He had sent texts instead, saying he couldn't wait to return to me.

Right before I went to bed that night, I heard my cell phone play "Tremble" until it stopped, and my screen flashed with the voicemail icon. When I tapped the screen to listen, I heard Jake's voice. He'd be back in the city tomorrow and hoped to meet up.

I deleted his message.

**November 26, 2010**

As promised, Jake had come back to New York today. He even visited the apartment, calling me only after he had arrived in Brooklyn. I told him I was perfect at the penthouse, and so was Edward. Jake asked where it was, but I refused him. And when he pressed me about it, I hung up.

"Jake?" Edward asked when I slammed the phone onto the kitchen counter.

"He won't be a problem, if that's what you're thinking," I said, cocking my eyebrow.

"Maybe it's time you got rid of that phone?" he suggested before finishing off a chunk of frosting on his plate.

"Maybe." I shrugged, actually liking the sound of that. A fresh start with no attachments sounded pretty damn good. "I'd really like that, actually."

His chin marked with frosting, I sidled up to him to wipe it off with my thumb. Edward's cheeks reddened, as they often did whenever we touched now. He grasped my hand as soon as I got it all off, and pulled my thumb into his mouth. His tongue made my skin hum.

"Good." His voice was hoarse when he gave me my thumb back. My head was pounding as we stared at how my thumb glistened between us. It wasn't the only part of me that was wet.

"Edward-" I murmured, hoping to see something else in his eyes besides shame and regret.

"I don't wanna do this," he said in a rush. "I can't." He backed away to the hallway.

"It'll feel good. I'll make you feel so good," I promised, followed him down the hallway until we reached the living room. He gave a sidelong glance to the couches. I stopped near the staircase, leaning against the bannister.

"You still won't look over there, at the couch..." He chewed on his lower lip.

"And you won't make love to me." I rubbed the back of my neck.

"I will, Bella. I need time. And you do, too." Taking a step to me, he took my hands.

"You're not gonna make me beg like Maggie, are you?"

He shook his head and pulled me close to him. I thought he was gonna hug me, but he turned me around instead. He folded his arms around my chest so that we both faced the living room.

It was only three p.m., but the space was tinged in blue, darkening every second. I forced myself not to focus on anything before me. I clasped his forearms as I remembered the darkness and fury, the wounds in his eyes, and the terror in his voice.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Edward, please." A hot tear rolled down my cheek and splashed on my fingers and his skin.

He tucked his face into my neck, then whispered in my ear, "Never. I will never hurt you again. Never."

He repeated this as I began to sob, my knees buckled, and we slid down to the floor.

His voice couldn't drown out the screams from August in my mind. I felt my body begin to cool down.

"Look at that couch over there," he said so softly into my neck. "We've made love on that couch, remember? And the step to the terrace, where you cut your knee? I mended you back then, and I'll do it again."

Yet all I could do was remember him screaming, the blood on my lips, and his hands around my throat right on top of that couch. I clutched my throat, now, feeling a phantom weight press down on it. Grappling with me, Edward pulled my hands away, and held them down at my sides.

"Baby, you make me believe anything is possible, now you have to believe it, too," he cooed. His voice was smooth like fudge, flowing into my ear and down to my fractured soul.

"No!" I wouldn't open my eyes and struggled against him. "Let me go, Edward."

"Bella..."

"Let me go!" I yelled, and he released me with a sigh.

I scrambled up to my feet and ran up the stairs. Curling up into a ball in bed, I fought for sleep. I didn't have dreams anymore; I just saw green.

My body was too tense to fall into the depths.

A couple of minutes later, I found Edward's eyes in the doorway, inching closer, as deep as the Pacific Ocean.

I beckoned him to come to bed, and he quickly advanced. As he closed his arms around me, I murmured into his chest,

"I wish you could take the monster out of my head. Take him out, Edward, please."

I felt his heartbeat against my lips and tried to remember this was the Edward I loved. Everything he had done in the past was done by the violent stranger, or brought on by past fury and sorrow, or other people who had nothing to do with us. The memories made up the monster, and I wanted to purge them so badly. Yet, every time I would look into the living room, it would roar to life, feral and untameable.

I had to get rid of the monster in my head. I had to forget all of the terrible things the stranger had done to me, and live in the now because this man was perfect, and he would never hurt me. Edward would love me forever.

He kissed the top of my head. "Poof!"

The fragments in my soul melded. My heart grew warm, and my fingers stroked his lips. These lips would bring me salvation. The memories would fade. All that mattered was now.

"The monster's gone," Edward said into my hair. "And he's never coming back."

**December 9, 2010**

Over the past week, I had barely left the penthouse, unless it was to go food shopping. Edward worried that I would become stir crazy, but our bedroom and kitchen were the best places in the world for me. I read recipes throughout the day, hoping to find a richer cake for him to devour. I searched online for fun stuff my mom and I could do throughout the week that she would be here, Edward offering to foot the bill for every excursion. I refocused my life on what I enjoyed rather than the demons in the living room, the career goal that I wasn't "meant to do in life," and the fact that I was supposed to have done a presentation with Jessica on the second, and hadn't even bother to call her.

She hadn't call me, either, which made sense. This was a busy season for Broadway, and the Shubert was showing one of the most popular musicals in town: _Memphis_.

So, I let that part of my life go, because it had let me go. I wondered if I should even bother finishing my degree at this point. Edward said I should because I was so close, but I didn't think it was a good enough reason. I had to do my thesis on _Hamlet_, something I thought I knew like the back of my hand, while the Editor in Chief of one of the most prestigious magazines _ever _thought my analysis was paltry. Why bother working on something that I was no good at? On something that didn't even make me happy anymore?

No, I had plenty of things to make me happy. My mom was coming and she would see Edward and love him and accept him. Edward would leave for L.A., but this time, I wouldn't feel the dread because he would come back as the same person he'd been before he left. And his dad would be fine.

Our lives would be good again.

This morning, after Edward had gone out to meet with Ben, I was checking out a recipe for chocolate mousse cake when I heard "Tremble" playing from my cellphone. "Jessica" appeared on the screen.

"Hey," she said with a morose tone.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Well, I'm much better than you right now."

"What? What do you mean?" I hopped out of bed to push the window open. It was a lot warmer out than it had been the last few days. A warm breeze floated over the loveseat. It felt like spring.

"I don't think you need a reminder. You must be so devastated. I wish I could do something to help."

Dammit. I had told her something about why I didn't go to class last month. _What was it? A family thing?_

"It's okay," I stuttered. "I'll be fine."

"So hey, I get things are bad but at least we didn't have to do the presentation."

"Um, yeah." My stomach grumbled, and I frowned at my stomach. There must've been some dumplings left from Spice. I padded out of the room, barefoot, and jogged down the stairs. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you get the email?"

"No." I hadn't checked my email since Edward returned from L.A. "What happened?"

"Evans was fired." Jessica sounded positively ecstatic.

I leaned back into the wall with the painted arch, my mouth slack. _Who did it? Was it Ms. Evanson? When did this happen?_

"When?"

"Well, he was fired right after Thanksgiving break. We got the email a day later."

"Who do you think..."

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"It is?" I rubbed my head.

"Your voice is shaking worse than Julia Roberts in _Steel Magnolia's_. You told the Dean, didn't you?"

"No. No way. I haven't even been on campus since October."

"Oh." Jessica hummed. "But you know who told the Dean."

"Umm..."

"I kinda guessed you'd blabber about this. I think I even wanted you to, even though I'd told you otherwise."

"So, what changed your mind?" I shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen.

"You."

"Me? How?"

"You did everything right, and we made a super badass presentation. I don't think we would've gotten this done if you weren't so committed, Bella."

I couldn't believe I'd spent four years hating this girl. She'd had my back the entire time we worked on this project, and here she was congratulating me on staying committed? I treated her like shit last semester. I called her a cocksucking whore for goodness sakes! And now, I had this lie hanging over me that I had to let go.

"God Jessica, I'm so sorry."

"For what? You're the one who's suffering right now."

The kitchen tiles cool beneath my feet, I headed for the fridge. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you the last few years. I was a bitch, and I'm sorry."

"Oh please. Who_ isn't_ a bitch at Tisch?"

"I said so many cruel things to you..."

"No worries. I'm over it."

"But I also-"

I sighed. Holding my phone up by my shoulder, I opened the fridge and picked up the bowl of steamed vegetable dumplings. "I made up an excuse about not going to class last month. It wasn't true, and I'm sorry."

"So then, what the hell was it?" She sounded put off.

"I can't get into it right now," I hesitated before picking up the bowl.

"Are you in trouble? You said you haven't been eating and _did _lose all that weight."

"It was bad. Last month..." I shivered. "It was bad, but I'm better now." I poured the dumplings onto a plate and popped it in the microwave.

"Are you sure? I'm really busy over the next few days, but we can talk about it this weekend."

"Yeah, I'm okay now."

"By the way, did you wanna see _Memphis_? I've got a couple of tickets if you wanted to bring that hot boyfriend of yours. They're for the week after Christmas. You two are still dating, right?"

"Yeah. Um..." I pressed the "reheat" button on the microwave and leaned my hip against the counter as it whirred. "Yeah, we are, but he's really busy with work. My mom's coming over for a visit, though, so I'll take the tickets for us."

"Alright, cool! I'll leave them at the window. They're for the 27th at 8. Don't be late."

"My mom wouldn't let me," I said with a hollow laugh.

"Hey, so, I know this is a rough subject, considering everything that happened, but have you seen Alice?"

The microwave beeped as I replied, "No, did she wake up?"

"Yeah, it was on the news, Bella. First you missed the email, now all the news about Alice? Are you sure you're okay?"

Pulling the bowl out of the microwave, I assured her I was fine. I wondered if Jake made her call me. She wasn't usually this considerate.

"Okay, well, she left yesterday with all the world watching. It was kinda sad to see. She looked like a skeleton getting in that SUV. I guess it was a good thing you've been so oblivious. It was hard even for me to watch."

"Where's she going? Do you know?"

"Erik said New Orleans on his Facebook. I bet it's rehab, but other people think she just wants to get away from the madness up here. Her dad's got this big fat mansion that would keep all prying eyes off of her."

"Maybe she'll seek therapy in her dad's mansion..." I mused, picking up a spoon from Edward and my utensils drawer. "She really loves him. I think being around him will do her good."

"Who knows? And I kinda don't care. Never liked her, although I wish her the best."

I brought the warm dumpling to my mouth. It was perfect temperature and texture thanks to the microwave. I would never use the one in Brooklyn again if I could help it. The plate wasn't even that hot.

"I do, too. I wish things had ended better. I hope she'll be happy someday."

"Such a good soul," she chided. "Even after she threatened you on Facebook and never told you about her affair with Evans, you'd still wanna be friends with her?"

Chewing on another dumpling, I swallowed it before telling her, "No. In fact, I don't think I was _ever _friends with her."

I didn't believe this, though. I had told everyone else that what had happened to me after Edward had left wasn't a big deal, but it was. I would've died in that living room if it wasn't for her. I would've failed out of school.

Maybe it was because things were starting to change between Edward and me, but after my conversation with Jessica ended, I began to look back fondly on my friendship with Alice. No one else would have "Sex and the City" marathons with me. No one else would throw me those lavish parties.

We _were _friends. She _did _save my life. And now, I'd probably never have the chance to thank her.

Yeah, it was definitely because things were looking up between Edward and me. Definitely.

**December 18, 2010**

Yesterday, Edward had bought me a new, black iPhone, joking that I didn't need any contacts but my mom and him. He smiled the whole time he said this, but I secretly agreed. None of the people in the white iPhone Alice bought last summer mattered.

There was another change about the new phone. He had programmed the ringtone to play Beethoven, but a very optimistic piece: the first movement from "Pastoral," Beethoven's sixth symphony.

I think the biggest change was the new number. Now, no one could reach me unless I reached out to them.

I thought to add Jake, but decided against it. He wasn't even going to be in New York after the holiday. I had nothing to say to him. He just didn't understand.

This evening, my mom and I were on the phone while she packed for her trip here in a couple of days. When she first told me she was going to spend Christmas in New York, I hadn't been as excited. But since she had warmed to Edward so quickly, I couldn't wait for her to meet him.

He wanted to take us to the Met, the Guggenheim, and MoMA on Monday, then Lincoln Center Tuesday night, before he left for L.A. He was just as excited to see her. He wanted to know where my sure-footed side came from, the side he loved most about me. And he wanted to see me happy again. He said whenever I spoke to my mom on the phone, I was a different person. I sounded more mature and assured. I sounded unafraid.

It was during that call, though, that Edward rushed into our bedroom, his eyes crimson and green. I cut my excitement short.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I covered the mouthpiece of the iPhone and walked over to his shaky body. In the month since we had lived here again, his clothes no longer hung off his body. His shirts had begun to cling to my hips and ass as well, which both of us loved, but him especially. So along with the phone, Edward had bought me new clothes and shoes yesterday. They were tinier replicas of his shirts, the ones I loved to wear the most.

When he'd come home and see me in the clothes he bought, his eyes would light up and even if he looked so tired, he could've passed out in the foyer, he smiled at me and hugged me tight for five minutes.

Now, he rushed in with an old wound reappearing in his eyes.

"My dad. Something's wrong. I..." Suddenly, he opened his shiny eyes wide. "I gotta go back to L.A. tonight."

"Bella? What happened? Is that Edward?" I heard my mom ask. We'd been laughing only moments ago.

"Mom, I'll call you back."

"Oh- Okay honey."

I hung up, tossing the phone on the bed.

"Okay. Okay, but tell me what's wrong?"

Edward shook his head. "Emmett wouldn't tell me. He just wants me to get home tonight." A tear fell. "What if... tonight... what if he doesn't make it to Christmas?"

"No, he's fine. Baby, please don't worry. Please."

Edward lowered his head, staring intently into my eyes. Holding my face in his trembling hands, he pulled me closer, so that we were nuzzling. The old sparks ignited along the bridge of my nose. Every hair on my body stood on end. I reached up to wipe his new tears away. Then, gently, as if touching a butterfly, he kissed me.

The heat on his lips surpassed my own for the first time. He was burning up, and it was over the briefest kiss. He buried his face into my neck and hugged me, setting my flesh ablaze.

"Bella, I need you to come with me. Bella, I need you. Please come with me," he mumbled into my neck, into my soul. "I need you."

Over his bent head, I stared down at the phone on the bed, thinking about how happy mom was. She was in a great relationship with Phil. She hated her job but loved London. She had a great life now.

I didn't have a life without Edward, and he didn't have one without me.

So, I pulled away from him and nodded.

By the time we arrived at JFK, I was relieved because he no longer trembled in my arms, his cheeks were dry of tears, and I saw more green than crimson in his eyes. Whatever happened to his dad this week, he would be okay because of me.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Thank you all. **

**Bye :)**


	47. Chapter 44 Orange Red Orange

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

"**Living with someone you love can be lonelier-than living entirely alone!-if the one that y' love doesn't love you."- Maggie, the Cat from **_**Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.**_

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**Chapter 44- ****Orange Red Orange**

**December 19, 2010**

My love was okay.

When I called my mom to tell her Edward had an emergency and that I had to cancel our plans for this Christmas to help him, all she asked was if Edward was okay, and I said yes. My love was okay as long as I was with him.

She understood.

"Maybe New Year's?" Her voice was shaky over the phone.

I couldn't promise her that. If Carlisle passed on, who knew how long we'd be in L.A.? Edward just couldn't be alone, now. He needed me and I had to be there for him.

Edward and I were joined at the airport by his Aunt Victoria. It seemed Emmett had wanted her to come to L.A., too. Edward held me closer when he saw her hurrying towards us in front of our gate, her ticket in hand.

"If she's coming, then my dad's in really bad shape," he murmured in my ear as she approached us. Her shaped eyebrows turned upward and her full painted lips were turned downward.

"I'm sorry, Edward." She smelled like coffee and cigarettes.

"Why? I'm not the one who's dying, am I?"

She sighed. "And who is this young lady?" Her smile was curt. I was taken aback. I hadn't expected anyone in his family to ever smile at me.

"This is Bella, my girlfriend." A rush ran through me. "Bella, this my Aunt Victoria."

I blushed furiously. She nodded as Edward took my hand, leading me past the flight attendants and into the jet bridge.

Once we were settled in our comfy seats in Business Class, Victoria got comfortable with me. Perhaps _too_ comfortable, according to Edward's reactions.

"Your father lived his entire adult life with drama. Now, he'll die with it."

Edward and I side-eyed each other while we sipped from his tiny can of ginger ale or my tiny bottle of water. We swapped them whenever we wanted a taste for something new. I leaned my head on his shoulder as Victoria looked at us with a cocked eyebrow.

"Too cute," she tossed her wavy red mane. The shade was the same as Edward's with some gray curly sprigs hidden inside. Her eyes were brown, which was the only thing about her that was more like Emmett than Edward. If we were living another life, people would assume she was their mother.

"Thank you," I replied.

"She wasn't complimenting us," Edward said under his breath. He sat on the aisle seat, while I sat in the middle, his aunt at the window.

When I peeked up at him, I heard her hoarse voice say, "Your father and Lizzy were just as cute all those years ago... before the drama."

Edward rolled his eyes.

"Aunt Vicki, come on. Bella doesn't need to hear old stories about my parents for the next couple hours." With a whisper in my ear, "I would much rather the silence, wouldn't you?"

"No, I wanna hear this." I turned away from Edward to give Victoria my undivided attention.

With her eyes golden from the sunlight streaming through the window, she grinned at me, tapped the back of my hand with her wrinkly one, and began this story about who her sister, "Lizzy," was, how much she loved Carlisle, and how great she was on stage.

"I had never seen anyone like her. She was masterful, Bella. Sometimes, it seemed like she became possessed on stage."

"Kinda like Edward," I said, squeezing his hand. He squeezed it back, but when I looked up at him, his eyes were closed and his head was tilted back against the headrest.

"She would've been proud of him, particularly with this _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof _production. She loved Paul Newman growing up," Victoria had a faraway look in her eye. Then, she bowed her head.

"What?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She had tears in her eyes when she looked up. "I've bored you enough." With a sniffle, she turned her head towards the sunny window.

For all the love she spoke about, I wondered why she had said Carlisle lived with drama. He seemed to be the one who assuaged drama, not instigated it. After what Alice and Esme claimed he did all those years ago, he also seemed like a great man, helping them out when they needed him. Edward seemed like the only one who had issues with him. He took Alice's side in the rape case over his own son's, but considering Edward's temper, I could see why he felt that way. Maybe the drama revolved around only Edward?

When we were about to land, Edward grabbed my thigh. He was sweating.

"Hey, it's okay. We're almost there." I pried off his fingers and interlocked them with mine, but Edward was still sweating even after our safe landing and after the plane had come to a full stop.

"Hey," I patted his brow and his temples dry with a napkin . "We're here. We're about to see your dad." I smiled for him. He just gulped and took the napkin from my hand to dry the back of his neck.

"He hates LAX," Victoria said to my right. She unbuckled her seat belt. "Always has."

We grabbed our carry-on bags and made it to the sunny concourse.

"It's smaller than I thought," I told him.

"Isn't everything?" He said, checking his phone. He had gotten a text message.

With CNN on every TV screen, magazines showing off the latest celebrities, and dozens of abysmal security guards, LAX was no different from JFK or SeaTac. And the only celebrities I saw were on those magazines.

"Emmett should be right outside," Edward told Victoria and me. He put the cell phone back into his pocket.

"Good." She beamed at him. "I can't wait to see him."

As soon as we walked out to the balmy street, the exhaust fumes my first idiosyncratic taste of L.A., Emmett ran up to his aunt, lifted her up high in the air, and twirled her around. His baby blue polo shirt stretched around his biceps.

"You. Look. Mahvelous." She said as if she were Billy Crystal. Emmett grinned up at her, revealing a row of straight teeth I think I had only seen once before: outside of the penthouse right before he met me. Once he had laid his eyes on me, they lost their humor. Now, smiling up at his aunt, his dark brown eyes looked different. They looked human.

"You should see Dad." He lowered his aunt to the ground. Then, he looked straight into Edward's eyes. "He looks like he could run from Malibu to Hollywood."

"What?" Edward turned beet red.

"How?" Victoria's eyes bugged out of her head.

Emmett grinned. "He's got great news for us."

"_Great_ news?" Edward let go of my hand, forming fists at his side.

"Emmett, what's going on?" Victoria crossed her arms over her chest. "You told me something was wrong with your father."

"Yeah, there is. He hasn't been himself since last night, and he was even weirder when I called you two this morning."

"So, you told us to fly over here because Dad was 'weird'?" Edward asked using air quotes. "What the hell, Emmett?"

"No. It wasn't like that. Dad asked for you two to fly over so that he could tell us this news. He thought it was urgent." Emmett shrugged. "I didn't know how else to get _you_ here," he said, giving his brother a pointed look. After looking me up and down, Edward narrowed his eyes at his brother. Then, Emmett looked down at his aunt, "And Dad thought you'd appreciate the surprise."

"Ah, he's returned the favor," she chuckled. "Well good for him! He didn't have such a sense of humor when I surprised him."

"Emmett, can I talk to you for a second?" Edward cocked his head to a row of empty taxi cabs to our right. Rounding his boulder-sized shoulders, Emmett let his brother lead the way. As they began to talk, he pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. He swung it around and around his thumb.

"You look worried," Victoria said, walking up to me. "Don't be. Those two love each other as much as two brothers could."

"That was a really crummy thing for Emmett to do, though. Edward's not in the right place for such a prank."

She raised her eyebrows. "Exactly how long have you two been dating?"

"Almost a year." I said this too quickly and could feel my face heat up.

"So you know... everything?"

I nodded.

"Well, you're a brave soul, Bella."

"Everyone has a demon or two. And we've put that part of his life behind us. We're ready to move on."

"Together." She reached into her purse for a carton of cigarettes.

"Yeah." I peeked over her shoulder at Edward and Emmett. The latter no longer played with the keys. They were both still too tense, though.

"Well, Edward's not his father's son, I'll tell you that." Victoria's sarcastic tone reminded me of what she had said during the flight about "drama." When I asked her about it, she said,

"It was a long time ago." She flicked her Bic lighter onto the tip of a cigarette hanging from her lips. After an inhale, she said. "I shouldn't have said anything," with the smoke swirling all around her.

"Okay..." I peeled off my jacket, sweat dripping down the middle of my breasts. "I know Edward caused a lot of drama. Is that what you're referring to?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't-" She began speaking but her words didn't register. Over her shoulder, I heard Edward yell,

"You son of a bitch!"

Victoria turned around and grabbed my shoulder as I took a step to them. Edward's face was flushed, and his chest heaved as he cranked his fist back to punch his brother. All too quickly, Emmett caught Edward's fist and lowered it.

"They'll be fine. Emmett's a pro." She took another puff.

"What does that mean?" I watched Emmett pull Edward into an awkward hug. Edward didn't hug him back. His arms remained down at his side.

"He's a counselor in rehab facilities across the country. He knows how to distill... situations. They just need to talk."

He wouldn't let go of Edward until he loosened up. Eventually, Edward's fists opened and reached around Emmett to reciprocate the hug.

"You see? They're fine." She squished her cigarette butt on the concrete. "Now, let's get our bags in the car. I can't wait to find out Carlisle's great news."

On their way back to us, Emmett shook both of Edward's shoulders from behind him, then playfully knocked him on the side of his head. Edward grinned.

"Aunt Vicki, let me help with those!" Emmett bent down and picked up all of our bags, even mine. I eyed Edward as he took my hand and led me to the back seat.

"I'm sorry you missed Christmas with your mom this year," he said as I climbed up inside. It was a stylish black Land Rover with a tan-seat leather interior.

"Don't be. I'm glad I came."

"Are you sure you don't want a ticket back?" Edward asked. He reached around me for the seat belt and locked me in. Quickly, he did the same for himself as I nodded.

"My mom understands. And I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else."

Emmett hopped in with a wide grin on his face.

"Alright! Let's get this party started!" He started the engine. As he peeled away from the curb, he glanced up into the rear-view mirror and looked directly at me.

He stopped smiling.

The drive to Malibu was quiet. I took in the scenery along the way—concrete, cars, and buildings with a palm tree or two in between, and was underwhelmed. I was thankful we had the windows up and the AC on. The city didn't look as bright as I had expected. Once we were closer the beach, though, everything looked brighter.

"Mom used to jog along this stretch of beach every morning. Remember, Edward?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah, I do," Edward replied quietly.

"She'd probably be in the ocean, now, surfing. Remember when she tried to teach you? You had so many wipeouts."

"Yeah." Edward looked out his window, which was the side facing the highway. When I squeezed his hand, he just leaned back into the seat without squeezing back.

A few minutes later, we approached a couple of huge wrought iron gates and a strapping security guard keeping watch inside. He buzzed Emmett in, flashing his pearly whites after Emmett complimented him on his tan.

"He looks like a Calvin Klein model," Victoria quipped as we drove through the gate and passed by a couple of mansions. The further we drove down the road, the bigger the mansions became. I let go of Edward's hand to dry my clammy palms on my jeans.

"I think he's past his prime," Emmett replied. He turned right into a driveway that immediately rose up to a hill. "Dad suggested he get a facelift." I heard Edward scoff. "Dude thinks everyone should get a facelift." I saw Emmett's eyes glance up into the rear-view mirror at Edward, then back down at the winding, shrub-lined driveway.

"Your father would give himself a facelift if he could," Victoria said, while turning around to face Edward and me. "Maybe that's his good news? L.A.'s preeminent plastic surgeon operating on his own face?" She smiled at Edward, who reached out for my hand again. My palms were still clammy. This made Edward finally face me again.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered. His hand covered my heart, which was beating a mile a minute.

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "Okay."

Emmett made one final turn and approached a classic-style home that looked like the mansion on "The Fresh Prince of Bel Air." Two gleaming white columns stood tall on either side of the grand entrance. Emmett drove past the entrance, a garden of rose bushes and hydrangeas, and to a two-door garage. The door to the left was already open.

"It's 2:00, so Dad's probably done with lunch and in the study playing video games." Emmett turned his head, grinning sheepishly at his aunt. "He would stay in there all day if Siobhan and I let him."

"Who's-" I began to ask Edward. He replied immediately.

"His nurse."

"Oh."

As the door slid down behind us, Emmett parked the car next to a black Mercedes. Immediately, he opened the door, running around to the trunk for our luggage. Victoria sighed, slowly stepping out and following him. Edward and I remained inside.

"Dad hasn't been doing well the last few months. Because of the chemo, his energy's zapped and he looks emaciated. Try not to stare. I made that mistake a few weeks ago." Edward frowned.

"But Emmett said he had great news. Maybe it has to do with his health?"

Edward shook his head.

"Emmett's like Dad's puppet. I doubt the news is that great. He just wants Dad to be happy, even if he has to lie about it." He grimaced. "Hollywood was made of lies and liars. I will never be one of those people. I will never be a liar, Bella."

"You aren't. You're good."

He furrowed his forehead.

"You're too good for me."

"No." I erased the lines of his forehead with my thumb. Back and forth it went until his skin was pink and free of shame. "I'm just right."

Emmett was nice enough to bring all of our bags in for us, chatting away with Victoria on Carlisle's other daily habits as we made our way inside through the garage. Emmett complained how his dad's appetite had waned up until yesterday when he got the "great" news. Now, he was eating like a horse.

The garage led to an expansive kitchen with half a dozen floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors that revealed a stark gray backyard with a couple of steel patio chairs, an infinity pool and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean. I took a deep breath.

"Have anything you like," Edward said against my cheek. "My house is yours." Then, he grabbed my bag from Emmett's shoulder and they walked through a hallway to my left.

"I wish I lived here, too," Victoria said walking towards the windows.

"I miss the Pacific," I mused. "It doesn't sparkle like this where I'm from."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows, her freckled forehead wrinkling like her hands. "Where are you from?"

As she said this, I peeked over my shoulder to watch Edward and Emmett walk past a family portrait that included their mother. Her smiling brown eyes captivated me, even from so far away.

"Well, I was raised in Phoenix but most recently lived in Washington State." I took a step closer to the portrait. Edward looked all of five with a bowl cut and his green eyes as bright as his father's. His mother and Emmett were smiling just as enthusiastically. "Before you ask, not Seattle. A small town called Forks."

Victoria hummed. "I love Seattle. I always wanted to vacation there with Lizzy, but never had the chance after..."

"I'm sorry," I interjected.

"Oh, it was something I wanted to do with her since we were children. Nirvana was one of her favorite bands, so it was always a dream of hers to see their hometown. But she never had time once..." She cleared her throat. "Once she married."

"But..." I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling and around the kitchen. "Look at this place. They could've hired nannies to help, right?"

"Neither she nor Carlisle wanted strangers raising Emmett and Edward." Her voice had a chilly overtone to it, as if Carlisle was the one who demanded this of Edward's mom, rather than mutually agree to do this with her. Was the portrait a lie, then? Had she been in a loveless marriage?

And was this what Victoria meant when she'd said Edward and I reminded her of Elizabeth and Carlisle?

"They looked so happy," I said, tilting my head towards the portrait.

"Unusual, isn't it?" She narrowed her eyes down the hall. "Especially Edward. But Lizzy had that effect on people. She was spontaneous and so vibrant, so full of passion." Her eyes relaxed as they shifted back to me. "She had a wicked sense of humor, too."

"I wish I knew more about her. Edward hasn't told me much."

Victoria crossed her arms over her chest. "He wouldn't. It was such a shock to us all, how she died. It shouldn't have happened in the first place."

"How did it happen?"

"Carlisle-"

"Hey Bella?" Edward walked in from the hallway without our bags and his shoes off. He ran his hand through his hair. "Did you find something to eat?" He took my hand.

"I'm not hungry," I replied, walking into his arms. His right arm wrapped around my waist and I rested my head on his chest. "How's your dad?"

"In his study playing video games," he said with smirk. "Emmett says Dad'll tell us what's up when he's done, but there's something about The Sims that's transfixed him. We'll be lucky if we see him before Christmas."

**December 25, 2010**

Christmas morning, a bright warm sun washed Edward's bedroom in light. I swear I could hear the ocean waves crash against the sands. I think I dreamed of swimming in the Pacific with Edward, diving down so deep, we transformed into mermaids and lived a whole new life under the sea. It was something I wished to do for him, because the last few days had been hard.

Edward had been joking before, but his premonition had been right. Carlisle had remained in his study, refusing to see me until Christmas morning, bringing Edward to a near breaking point. Last night, Christmas Eve, I had overheard Emmett beg Carlisle to join us to open gifts around the tree, but he had refused. The living room had been draped in silence, as the four of us sat on the carpet opening gifts none of us had wanted. I had received no gifts from anyone, and after seeing Jane's name multiple times beneath the tree, I had excused myself. Edward had promised he would give me my gifts Christmas night, as if it would make the half dozen gifts Emmett and Carlisle had bought for Jane disappear.

Edward had gone for a late-night run after that, not returning until I was in his bed, feigning sleep. I felt his forearms slide over my waist as we slept in our usual position these days, face to face. I had felt his forehead touch mine and heard a quiet, "I love you," before I had found the depths of the Pacific in my dream. But I couldn't remember much of the dream as I woke up and smelled smoke.

Out on the balcony off of his side of the room, with the sunrise marking every freckle on his bare back, I heard Edward sniffle. The smoke wafted in through the glass sliding doors, over his plaid sheets, and onto my skin. I rubbed my cheeks as I sat up, watching Edward do something he hadn't done since early on in our relationship: smoke a cigarette. He paced to and fro, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on the white stone parapet.

He pulled at the elastic of his boxers, squished the cigarette butt on the balcony floor, and dragged his feet inside. He was red all over when he climbed back in bed and into my arms. I stroked his hair as I felt new tears dampen my warm skin. My heart was beating only half as fast as his.

"So, you're gonna meet my dad today." His nose was stuffed, and his voice was heavy.

"Yes."

"Whatever he thinks of you won't matter. You know that right?"

"I guess so."

He turned onto his stomach, sliding up so that we were face to face. He smelled of cigarettes, and my stomach rolled. I couldn't believe I had ever been turned on by this scent. I could feel my lips turn down into a grimace before I could stop myself.

"Dammit. Sorry." He got up on his knees and knelt down beside me. "I'll shower." He hopped onto the floor before I could stop him.

"Don't worry about it."

"I shouldn't have asked my aunt for them. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Just don't do it again, baby."

With the most intense gaze, he stood with his hands on his hips.

"Okay."

When he sat down again, I crawled over to him at the edge. I kissed his neck, once... twice. He didn't pull away.

"Why were you crying out there?" I rubbed his stomach up and down.

"I- I don't wanna get into it now. I'll tell you later tonight."

"Did something happen with your dad?"

"No, he's fine." His voice wavered as I began rubbing his arms. "Um, I think I'll shower anyway." He turned to face me, my arms dropping at my sides. "Emmett hates the smell, too."

"Edward," I said, sighing. "I just wanted to touch you, nothing more. You don't have to run away every time I wanna comfort you."

"I know you want more."

"Not now."

Edward nodded.

"So, if your dad's fine, what's wrong?"

"Let's just..." He groaned. "We'll find out what my dad wants to say to you and then we'll talk."

"Promise?"

"Yeah." He jutted his thumb out towards his bathroom door. "I'll be out in a minute."

While he showered, I ventured downstairs to the foyer. This part of the house was dark, and I had to turn on a table lamp to near the staircase to see anything.

Even under the dim glow of the lamp, Edward's mother's smile illuminated the foyer. She gazed at me in various photos and paintings on the granite and marble walls around me. Two 8 x 11 photos were on a white marble table in the center of the room. These photos surrounded a centerpiece of white lilies.

One black and white photo was framed in gold. She looked like she was about Edward's age or mine. Wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, her face was painted white, and I immediately remembered Edward's New York Times photo. Her eyes were black orbs, as his had been. The second golden framed photo was in color. She was pregnant and laughing on the floor with Emmett.

"There you are," I heard Edward say from upstairs. His hair was a wet mess, but he was clean-shaven in a white t-shirt and boxers. "Get into the shower. My dad should be ready soon."

"Your mom was beautiful," I said, stroking the frame of the second photo. She was pink all over, freckled and pudgy and gorgeous. "And Emmett was so cute in this pic."

"He hates it," Edward said in a matter of fact way.

"What? Why?"

"That spot was where he found her. You know, when..."

"Oh." My stomach tied in knots. "Was she already..."

He nodded. I reached out for his arm, but he pulled back. I sighed.

"If Emmett hates this picture so much, why is it out here?"

Edward looked up the staircase to the right where Carlisle's room was. He narrowed his eyes.

"Your dad doesn't even care?"

"Nah," Edward replied. "Now get your pretty little ass up there so we can get this over with."

About forty-five minutes later, with my hair blow-dried and styled, my t-shirt and jeans ironed, and my lips glossy, I walked hand in hand with Edward down the grand staircase, past his mother's loving gaze, and towards the study.

Off the foyer, we stepped down a couple of steps into the living room with floor-to-ceiling windows and doors like the kitchen. We had only been in here at night, last night, when it looked like one could step off the pool's edge and fall into oblivion. The infinity pool stretched even to here, where the vista was breathtaking. We passed a gigantic abstract painting that hung over an electric fireplace. It was made of two blocks of red and orange. The painting and the Christmas tree's tiny white lights added much needed warmth to the cold dark room.

Edward had told me before he had opened his gifts that it was a Rothko, as if that were a big deal. And I guess it was. I just had a feeling Carlisle bought it for more than just the name, because what intrigued me was that it was the exact shade of Edward's and Elizabeth's hair.

"Breathe, Bella," Edward said with a little smile, when we arrived at the study door. It was opened a crack. He kissed my cheek. "Dad likes anything with breasts."

I giggled, which made Edward's eye light up.

"Edward?" I heard a smooth voice from beyond the study door and jumped.

"Breathe." Edward stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"And Bella, I presume?" The voice was warmer than anything in the house. It was as warm as Edward's thumb on my skin.

I took a breath.

"Come in," Carlisle said from beyond the door. "Let me see you."

* * *

**A/N: **

**Here is the Rothko painting: http *colon* *forward slash*forward slash* bit*dot*ly *forward slash* 120icXV**

**Sorry for the delay, everyone. I've had a lot of stuff going on in my life that suddenly took up time. On top of that, this part of the fic is hard for me to write, since it's near the end, and I have so much to cover. I think I'm afraid to let it go. It's like my baby's gonna go off to college, and I don't want her to leave. :( Alas, I must let her.**

**I'm working on the next chapter now. I should have it up by Thursday, July 11th. Over the next couple of weeks, I will be writing as many chapters as I can, so the week of July 15th, I plan to update three chapters so that I can get back on schedule. I would like to post the final update by the last Thursday of July, July 25th.**

**Bye :)**


	48. Chapter 45 Thin-skinned

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 45- Thin-Skinned**

**December 25, 2010**

Edward pushed the study door open. With his hand on the small of my back, we walked into the dark expansive office. Thick gray curtains lined the wall at the far end of the room where Carlisle was seated behind a granite desk and a large monitor.

Edward clenched his jaw, breathing deeply through his nose. The closer we got to the desk and his father, the shallower his breaths became. I didn't know how I was supposed to keep calm if he wasn't. He looked like he was about to pounce on his dad.

When we were a step away, Carlisle came into view. Over one dimly-lit lamp on the desk, I saw his slicked-back blond hair, straight jaw line, and eyes as green and intense as Edward's. His eyes followed my every move as Edward and I walked past the two straight-back chairs in front of his desk and stopped.

He looked positively delighted to see me.

"Bella," he grinned, only a few lines appearing around his lips. He looked so boyish that when he pushed his chair back, I couldn't help but stare. He took half a minute to do so. Within his crisp white button down shirt, I could see how emaciated Edward warned me he'd be. His arms didn't fill the sleeves of his shirt. And when he made a move to stand, I saw sweat beads appear on his forehead. It was like he was made of two different people: his head was as young as the strapping model/security guard at the gate; his body was as emaciated and it looked like it would collapse into itself. Then again, whatever was on top of his head couldn't have been his. The chemo should've made all of his hair fall out.

_No, it's a mask. Maybe his eyes are lying, too. He wasn't delighted to see me. Emmett was his "puppet" after all. He must've been the one to hate me first. _

Edward squeezed my side. when I looked up at him, he shook his head slightly and I remembered what he had said about not staring. I quickly looked away as he hurried to his father's side.

"Let me help you, Dad," Edward murmured. Helping Carlisle up took a full minute. This made Carlisle smile bashfully. I was so embarrassed for him, I looked away once more.

My eyes fell on an old photo of Carlisle and Edward's mom embracing at the edge of the desk, I heard Carlisle say to me in a cheerful tone,

"Welcome." When I looked up, I saw Edward help Carlisle lean forward against the left side of the desk. "It's nice to finally meet you."

I gulped. "Likewise, sir." Of the two chairs facing the desk, I leaned against the armrest of the one closer to Carlisle, afraid my knees would buckle if I stood too long.

"Sir? You make me sound like my father. Please, it's Carlisle. Call me Carlisle."

"He actually likes it when my friends call him, 'sir.'" Edward walked back over to me with a funny look in his eyes. They were easy. "Especially the beautiful ones." He reached around me for a tissue.

"It's a good thing he kept you away for the past few months," Carlisle quipped. "I would've snatched you up if I had known you were so pretty. I have patients who pay thousands of dollars for your cheekbones."

I blushed from the compliment, then turned my head away again as Edward pat Carlisle's forehead dry with the tissue. Along the walls were more photos of Elizabeth, all candids of her in her youth. In a couple of photos, Carlisle kissed her cheeks. He looked like he hadn't aged a day.

"Isn't she the sweetest thing?" Carlisle murmured. Edward tossed the tissue in a bin behind his dad with a disingenuous chuckle. What he said next made me cringe.

"Let's drop the act," Edward muttered.

"Edward-"

A tense silence stretched between us, lasting a couple of minutes. Only the whir of the fan in Carlisle's Mac and his ragged breathing cut into the air. Carlisle's eyes caught mine when he said, "Forgive my son. He's-"

"No need to apologize, Dad, really." Edward dropped the smile, standing beside me. He leaned back against the front of the desk. "Now that you've met Bella, what's the _great _news?"

"What's the rush? Do you plan to head back to New York as soon as I tell you?" Carlisle's voice was no longer smooth.

"We've waited over five days. That's long enough."

Carlisle narrowed his eyes at his son. "I'm going to be in New York for a while." He eyed me like Emmett did when we were at LAX. "I may have found a doctor who can help me."

Edward snorted. "Another one? Like the two dozen who swore they had the cure?"

Carlisle cocked his eyebrow. "I know bull-shitters, and I know the real deal. Dr. Levinson has the answer."

"Dad-" Edward sighed.

"I wanted you two to be the first to know this. I haven't yet notified Emmett. I'll be over in New York from just after the first of the year until February. That's how long the treatment lasts."

"That's great," Edward muttered.

"I'll rent a room at The Plaza. I don't want to be a burden on you two. And Siobhan will come with me so I won't be alone and you won't have to worry." He said this with his eyes on me while Edward began rubbing the back of his neck.

"You wouldn't be a burden," I promised.

"He will, believe me," Edward mumbled from the side of his mouth. "By the way," he glared down at his father. "You don't have to talk to Bella like you're threatening her."

I bit my lower lip.

"I will not tolerate this attitude, young man," Carlisle snapped.

"Maybe you shouldn't-" I started, but Edward interrupted me.

"No," he said with a glance at me. "He's being a dick, Bella. It's not fair to you or me." He glowered at his father again with a taut jaw and tight shoulders.

"_I_ won't tolerate your complete disregard anymore. I brought Bella all the way across the country because I thought you had taken a turn for the worst." The corner of Edward's lower lip twitched. "She hasn't seen her mother in years, and she's here supporting me because she's a great person. That's more than I can say for you or Emmett who kept this illness from me for _months._ But you couldn't bother to see her until now?"

"I didn't ask you to bring herhere, did I? Neither did Emmett. There's the door. She can walk out and fly back to her mother."

"You're such an asshole, you know that? It's a good thing mom's not here to see you now."

"We will not discuss your mother in front of this young lady!" Carlisle's voice rose so loud it filled the room.

"Maybe I should go," I said, backing away for the door.

"No!" Edward grabbed my hand and pulled me beside him. Then, he got up off the desk and pulled me in front of his father, whose back was hunched over. Edward towered over him. "I want my father to see you, because you're the most perfect girl I have ever met. And you didn't see it when you walked in, but I did. He was judging you, figuring out ways to make you _fake, _like he thought my mom should be."

_Whoa! _I gulped._ Why? She was perfect in each photo._

"Hey!" Emmett's voice suddenly boomed behind us. "What's going on in here?" I turned around as he bounded to Carlisle's side. Edward's arm became steel around my waist. "Why is Dad standing?" Emmett cupped their father's trembling shoulder.

"Emmett, I'm not a cripple." Carlisle tried to jerk his shoulder out from under his son's hand, but was too weak. So, Emmett released him, then poked Edward's chest.

"Lay off, Ed."

"Hey, no problem," Edward grabbed my hand. "Bella and I'll go back to New York tonight."

"Edward, no," I whispered as he pulled me to the door.

"You'd really be a jerk and leave _today_?" Emmett glared. "Your _girlfriend_ have a problem with it?"

I gulped the lump in my throat. _What would it take to get Emmett to like me? Why was he so hostile in the first place? I've done nothing._

"I have no reason to stay," Edward retorted. He didn't stop walking. "You and Dad are the only family you need. And I told you to watch your mouth about Bella."

"Dad deserves better," Emmett responded softly. "He deserves better memories than this."

"What he deserves is to be alone."

"Edward, don't-" I pleaded with him. Planting my feet on the hardwood floor gave him pause. "Emmett's right." I didn't say this to get Emmett's approval. I said it because it was the truth.

"_Come on_, Bella!" Edward said. He took a glimpse of his dad over his shoulder, who was slumped against the side of the desk with his head bowed. More sweat accumulated on his brow. "This is exactly what he deserves!"

"You have to stay with him," I told Edward. I couldn't be the reason why he didn't spend this Christmas with his dad. Even if this mysterious treatment did help him, it wouldn't cure him. I hadn't done much research, but brain tumors at such a late stage were incurable. Carlisle wouldn't live until next winter. Stroking Edward's cheek, his eyes rested on mine. His body wasn't as rigid.

"Stay until tomorrow, Edward," Carlisle pleaded from behind us. "And this may be a good Christmas."

Edward's grasp on my hand tightened, but as he faced his father, he narrowed his eyes at Emmett.

"Fine," Edward seethed.

"Good," Emmett seconded.

"Fantastic!" Carlisle added.

I stood silent, hand-in-hand with Edward, peering into his eyes, hoping to find a sense of serenity there. Even though the _easy_ was gone, I found his old wounds.

"I'm here," I whispered into his ear. "We can talk if you want?"

Edward squeezed my hand, but kept mum.

I thought he'd keep his word from earlier this morning, and tell me why he'd been crying out on his balcony or why he was smoking again. We had plenty of opportunity to talk after the extravagant five-course Christmas dinner, but once we returned to his room, he watched _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof _and went to sleep. The premiere was in a couple of weeks and watching the movie somehow helped him focus.

He didn't give me the gift he had promised. I doubted it existed at all.

I stayed up all night wondering about his tears, wondering how exactly his mother died. I didn't know how to approach him about it, and considered asking Victoria. She seemed so forthcoming from the get go.

I fell asleep, intent on asking her the next morning, but when I woke up, Edward was already dressed and packing his things.

He smelled of Irish Spring, which was a relief. But his fiery gaze stirred anxiety in the pit of my stomach.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. We're going home."

I still got butterflies when he said the word, "home."

Sitting up, I watched him walk around the bed for my suitcase. He tossed it onto the bed at my feet.

"Now, Bella!"

"Okay."

I packed, leaving a sweater, jeans, and underwear on the bed, then headed for the shower. He sat at the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of yellowed compositions on his dresser. They were all of Beethoven. I remembered when Edward told me about Jasper's death, how he had said that Carlisle pushed him to be a pianist and how disappointed he was when he chose to pursue acting. It made me rethink why his piano prowess wasn't included in any of his bios. And why he only played piano once for me last summer. He wanted to forget this part of his life and leave it behind like he left L.A. behind.

On my way out of the shower, I heard "Pastoral" play from my phone. Listening to the bright melody, it made me realize no matter how much Edward wanted to, he couldn't leave the memories or his family behind. They would always be a part of him and he wouldn't be able to deal with them until he faced them.

Or maybe that only applied to me.

I looked around an empty bedroom. Edward had even taken my suitcase.

"Edward?" I peeked out to the balcony. He wasn't there, either.

My phone beeped. Shuffling my feet over to the nightstand, I saw a voicemail icon from Jake. When I pressed the icon for speakerphone, Jake's voice filled the room.

"Hey. I know you're wondering how I got this number. Your mom was nice enough to share it with me. Here I was, thinking you had died when I called your old number and found out it was disconnected. I was this close to flying to New York to choke that motherfucker for hurting you again, and you're totally fine. You're just ignoring my ass. Thanks so much for being a great friend. And I'm so fucking glad you're okay. Merry fucking Christmas."

Slack-jawed, I slowly began to pick up all the pieces of my heart off the floor.

"Goddammit Bella!" I exclaimed.

I picked up the phone, located the missed call, memorized Jake's number that I never bothered to memorize before, and dialed it.

"Hello." Jake's voice sounded like snails caught in sludge.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I walked over to the balcony door to look outside, searching for some courage. My voice was too shaky.

"Really?" He didn't sound like he was buying it.

"I should've given you the new number. I was an idiot. Please don't stay mad.

"Whatever."

"Everything's different now, though. We're doing so much better. He's not gonna do anything like that again."

"You do realize that I trust that asshole boyfriend of yours as far as I can throw him."

"Jake-"

"And you looked like shit the last time I saw you. So why should I believe that?"

He sucked his teeth. "Whatever. Look, I called you yesterday to ask your advice on something. Then, I found out you wanted to cut me out of your life, so-"

"I don't." I shook my head.

"Yeah." His tone was dry and brittle. "I don't need your advice anymore. If you need me-"

"Please. Please let me know what it is. I wanna help."

Jake sighed as I turned away from the doors and walked to Edward's bed to pick up my underwear. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a garment bag in Edward's closet. It had a tag with my name hanging from it in big bold letters.

_My Christmas gift?_

"I got a present for you. Check your email," Jake said.

Navigating out of the call screen, I went into my inbox and found an email called "Tracks."

"Is this-?"

"They're the twelve tracks for my CD. It's done, Bells! I'm about to make it big." Jake chuckled half-heartedly.

With tingling fingers, I walked up to the garment bag. This close up, I saw it was from Bergdorf Goodman. I flipped the tag over to find a note.

"Anyway," Jake continued. "I kinda know what I want the first single to be, but my label's thinking of going in another direction."

_"Happy Birthday/Merry Christmas - Edward" _

My cheeks flared up as I struggled to focus on Jake's voice, which was a tad warmer with his great news.

"Do me a favor? Bella? Hello?"

"Yeah, I'm here," I said breathlessly.

"Listen to the tracks and tell me what you like?"

"Your old sound! Anything with your old sound."

"Yeah, well, that's pretty much every song on this LP. Anyway, let me know what you think as soon as you hear it."

"Okay."

I unzipped the bag.

"Thanks, Bella. Alright, I gotta go. You be safe, okay?" Jake said. "Bella?" He asked after I didn't reply.

"Don't worry about me. I'm perfect. Bye Jake."

He hung up.

It was a cobalt blue dress, and not just any cobalt blue dress. It was nearly identical to the flowy white dress Elizabeth Taylor wore in _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. _It was the same length and had the same v-neck and cinched waist.

I stared, dumbfounded. _Edward _did_ think of me when he was at rehearsal with Jane. What did he mean by "Happy Birthday," though?_

"Do you like it?" I heard his baritone from the doorway. I squeaked, pulling the zipper back up.

"I love it," I whispered. The butterflies in my stomach were zooming around like jet planes.

"I was gonna send it with the iPad for your birthday, but I was too selfish."

_Okay, a birthday gift four months late... Still, selfish? The dress was Marchesa for goodness sakes._

"Selfish? This must've cost a fortune!" I said way too loudly. I couldn't turn around to look at him. I was blushing so hard.

"I was. I wanted to see your reaction when you saw it." His voice came closer. "It's why I didn't give it to you on Christmas Eve. I wanted this to be for us. And I wanted to see you in it in private."

"I don't think I have the balls to wear this," I murmured. _How could I measure up to Elizabeth? I couldn't. She was beauty personified. I was just Bella._

"You don't need balls to wear it for me." His lips were now up against my ear, making me shiver. "I want to see you in it when we get home, please?" He wrapped his arms around me as I saw something else that would make it hard for me to wear: the size.

I shook my head. "It's too big. I've lost a lot of weight since last summer."

"We can get it tailored."

"No." Finally, I turned around and placed a hand on his chest. His eyes smoldered. "I want to gain the weight back. I want to be how I was when we were the happiest."

"Okay." He kissed my cheek, then pulled the garment bag out of the closet.

"Soon, we'll be even happier." Staring down at me, he continued, "My parents loved each other once. I just didn't see it that much in person. I don't want that to be us, Bella. I don't want there to be any more secrets or lies."

"If you tell me why..." I took a deep breath. "... why you were crying yesterday, we won't have any."

Edward nodded, but backed away. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring straight ahead like he did when we were at the New School. His eyes ventured to a place far away.

"My mom died ten years ago yesterday."

"Oh no."

"Christmas morning. She had surgery a couple of weeks before the holiday and everything was fine. She was gonna go on auditions after the New Year, even though Dad swore he'd help her so she wouldn't have to. Dad even recommended the doctor. Dr. West was the best in the country.

"It was a routine operation to 'make Mom 100%'. I didn't understand why she wasn't already. I had seen the moms of the other kids in my class. Jasper's mom looked like she ate plastic for breakfast. I asked Dad if Mom was gonna do something like that, but Dad said no one would touch her face, just other parts that I didn't know about. Emmett told me later that she was getting a tummy tuck and a breast lift. Emmett said he asked a couple of his friends if their moms did this, and they all said yes. They were fine afterward. They were even happier, walking around half-naked all the time. I remember..."

Edward grinned with a memory lighting up his eyes. "Emmett and I weren't looking forward to that at all. Mom wasn't the type to show anything off, so if our friends ever came over and she walked around in a bikini, we'd die of embarrassment."

He sighed bowing his head. "That's what we were worried about, being embarrassed that our mom would start to dress like all the other moms in our neighborhood. We were sure everything would be fine, though, as Dad had said every time we'd asked him. And she was. She was out running only a week after the surgery. She was still covered up, even after she took the bandages off. She didn't change like Emmett and I had feared. She just... She died."

I bent down in front of him, reaching up to stroke the side of hair. The waves were silky smooth in my hands as he leaned his head into my palm and shut his eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be. It's in the past and nothing can change it." When he opened his eyes, he grabbed my hand and held it in between his rough palms. He stared down into me, right into my soul. "My aunt was wrong. We're nothing like them. I want you to be the best Bella you can be. I'll help you, okay? Whatever you wanna do, I won't hold you back. Whatever you wanna do after school, I wanna help."

I nodded, a lump in my throat and tears springing in my eyes. I didn't know what I wanted to do anymore, not after what Esme had said, but it didn't matter. We were young. I had years before I had to decide what I wanted to do with my life. As long as Edward was with me, that was all that mattered. Just being with him made me the best Bella.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Okay," he said more definitely. "Get dressed. I don't wanna miss this flight." He headed for his bedroom door. I noticed the Beethoven compositions weren't on his dresser anymore.

"Shouldn't I say goodbye to-"

"They're out with my aunt. Hurry, the taxi's on its way." He gave me a little smile at the threshold. "You'll see them again soon. They're all coming to New York for the play, remember?"

I screwed up my face as he shook his head then left.

A few minutes later, on my way out of the door, I got a glimpse of his trashcan. The yellowed composition sheets of Beethoven's greatest sonatas filled it to the brim, shredded into flakes of soon-to-be forgotten melodies.

**January 8, 2011**

"How do I look? Is the suit too loose? Do I need more mousse?" Edward's eyes darted from left to right around the narrow dressing room. His hands on his hips, he tapped his foot, then began pacing.

"Well?" he asked me, his voice strained. He spoke with his southern accent, which kind of gave me the heebie jeebies. I really didn't know how I'd be able to sit through the show without remembering the terrible month that I had worked so hard to forget.

"You look fine, honey. Relax." I didn't want to but kept glancing at the Jacques Torres box of chocolates on the table below the vanity mirror. There were a dozen in there just waiting to calm Edward down. He'd paid them no mind when we had arrived an hour ago, though. He was just focused on the play.

Since we had returned to the penthouse after Christmas, he'd been around even less. Sometimes, he didn't come home at night, staying with a cast mate (neither Ben nor Jane) to help them run lines or discussing final details with his director and Ben. At least this is what he told me via text. When he'd come home the next night, he'd crash without saying a word to me.

We hadn't celebrated New Years together. We had been asleep. Well, he had been asleep. I had spent most of the night awake listening to Jake's tracks because I loved so many of them. His sound was unadulterated raw soul, just the way I liked it. Something about them made the world around me more vivid, made me feel excitement and a profound energy that I didn't feel doing anything else. When I heard "Up and Down" for the first time a couple of days ago, I even felt like I could take a step into the living room. It was such an uplifting song. I felt like I could run to the moon and back when I heard it.

The best thing about it was that Jacob's explosive vocals drowned out the memories of Edward's screams. When I stood an inch away from the living room, I heard only the song, and his words "Going up to the heavens to find my freedom" repeated over and over in my mind every time I walked past it to the front door.

"Up and Down" was like every other song Jake shared with me: I could feel every emotion in them. But "Keys" was special. It was slower than the others, but it had something more. He was yearning for something that I didn't hear in his other songs. And after a month without more than a kiss on the cheek from Edward, I related to Jake's yearning completely.

When I had called Jake on Monday to tell him "Keys" was my favorite, he had been pleased, but not excited. It turned out this was the song the label liked. He had said it was too personal and really didn't want to release it. When he had hung up, he had still been indecisive.

"They're gonna walk right out after the first scene," Edward whined now, about to run his hand through his hair. I rushed to him to yank it down.

"Don't!"

He sighed, rubbing his side instead.

"Thanks," he said with a sheepish grin.

He had worked on his hair for twenty minutes. It was cut short on the sides and was a couple of inches at the top, like Paul Newman's in the 1958 film adaptation. I think I was happier to see his new look than he was. He was like a brand new person.

"They're not gonna leave. You'll be perfect up there. You always are."

"You really think so?"

"I know so," I said, adjusting his collar. It was too straight. I unbuttoned another button on his shirt and loosened his tie a bit more. He was supposed to be drunk and down on his luck in the first scene.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Bella." He held my face in his hands, stroking my cheek. He breathed me in.

"But you're still nervous. I wish I could help calm your nerves."

"You are. Believe me, you are."

I gave a sidelong glance at the chocolate box, to which he rolled his eyes, picked the box up, and tossed it into the trash can near the door.

"I don't need those anymore." He held my face in his hands again. This time, he leaned his face down until he was so close, his lips were less than an inch away. "All I need is your kiss, and I could blow away Florenz Ziegfeld himself."

Tilting his head, his lips brushed mine in the softest way. I had to grab his shoulders to steady myself as he kissed me harder. Our mouths opened, and we tasted each other in the exact way I had yearned for. It felt better than our first kiss because even though I felt no sparks and my tongue didn't become numb, I felt like I had rediscovered a part of myself. My life was inside of him, and soon, I would get underneath all of his layers and not only see him and love him, but see myself.

I hoped he would find the same in me. I hoped my layers were transparent enough, were thin enough.

When he pulled away, kissing my neck, he murmured with a hoarse voice, "We've been missing out." He kissed my neck again as he wiped my lips of our mingled saliva. "To be continued?"

I nodded, feeling his eyes before they found mine when he raised his head.

"Good- Break a leg," I said with a blush. He promptly stroked my cheek.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Alright," he yelled over his shoulder. He turned back to me, softening his tone. "You sure about the seating arrangements?" He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "You can stay backstage if you'd like?"

"It's okay. When you're up on stage, your brother and dad won't even realize I'm alive." I grabbed the cuff of his sleeve. "I'm sitting next to your aunt, though, right?'

He laughed as he pinched my nose, then left me in the room alone. From the doorway of his dressing room, I watched his cast and some of his crew crowded around him and began hopping up and down with big smiles on their faces, especially Jane. I noticed how far away he stayed from her and tucked it into the back of my mind. If I was his Elizabeth, then she was his Margaret, his Maggie, the Cat. And unlike the film- where Brick and Maggie reconcile- in this production, Brick and Maggie would _not _have a happy ending.

Right after Edward went out on stage, Jane spotted me down the hall. Her blue eyes flashed as I picked up the box of chocolates she bought Edward out of the trash can, opened it up, and flipped the box over. The chocolates fell hard into the metal can, making everyone turn to face me.

"Oops," I said with a shrug.

Jane's glare and furrowed eyebrows were brief but noticeable by not only me, but everyone around her. As she turned for the stage, they all looked at me with the utmost pity splayed across their faces. Everyone except Ben, who grinned mischievously at me. He nodded, and I gave him a little curtsy.

I was a fierce warrior ready for battle. She would never get her cat claws on him, no matter how much his family loved her and despised me. I kept my chin up on my way to the front row, finding the Cullens and Edward's Aunt Victoria already seated.

Keeping my chin up was harder to do when she joined Edward on stage ten minutes later. She was ravishing as Margaret, slinking her way around the bed, sauntering across the stage in her white slip, desperate as all get out. It made my heart flutter to see how indifferent Edward was to her. She was magnetic, in all the ways Elizabeth Taylor was in the film. Edward the total opposite. He was like a shadow on the stage in a light gray striped pair of pajamas. I breathed a sigh of relief seeing the new pajamas. If he had worn the pair he had on that night in November, I probably would've walked out of the theater.

Edward kept his glazed-over peepers on Jane as she drawled on and on. Even though they were in character, this reassured me tremendously and made the next scene even more telling.

Edward's weren't glazed over anymore. He was looking at Jane intensely, almost with disgust. Standing in front of a stand-alone mirror, Jane finished her diatribe about Mae, a money-starved, ruthless character, and caught him staring at her. She gasped and wheeled around to face him.

MARGARET: _Why are you looking at me like that?_

Edward began to whistle.

BRICK: _Like what, Maggie?_

MARGARET: _The way y' were lookin' at me just now, befo' I caught your eye in the mirror and you started t' whistle! I don't know how t' describe it but it froze my blood!- I've caught you lookin' at me like that so often lately. What are you thinkin' of when you look at me like that?_

BRICK: _I wasn't conscious of lookin' at you, Maggie._

MARGARET: _Well, I was conscious of it! What were you thinkin'?_

BRICK: _I don't remember thinking of anything, Maggie._

MARGARET: _Don't you think I know that –? Don't you –? Think I know that –?_

BRICK: _Know what, Maggie?_

MARGARET: _That I've gone through this-hideous.'-transformation, become-hard.' Frantic! Cruel! That's what you've been observing in me lately. How could y' help but observe it? That's all right. I'm not –thin-skinned any more, can't afford t' be thin-skinned any more. But Brick? Brick?_

BRICK: _Did you say something?_

MARGARET: _I was goin' t' say something; that I get- lonely. Very!_

BRICK: _Ev`rybody gets that . . ._

MARGARET: _Living with someone you love can be lonelier-than living entirely alone!-if the one that y' love doesn't love you. . . ._

After a pause, Edward picked up the crutch and hobbles downstage. Wíthout looking at her, he asks,

BRICK: _Would you like to live alone, Maggie?_

MARGARET: _No! – God! – I wouldn't!_

After this brief exchange, they went off to talk about other things. And at any other time in my life, I would've paid more attention to those scenes: everyone keeping Big Daddy in the dark about his illness, learning about what really happened to Skipper, Brick's best friend as well as Brick's closeted homosexuality. But this night was about Maggie and Brick, and how they couldn't make it work in the end.

I had to remind myself throughout the play that every time he laid his eyes on Jane, it wasn't Jane he was disgusted with, it was Maggie. He wasn't even Edward, he was Brick Pollitt. But by the end of the play, I was certain that his feelings for Jane were fueling his performance. As he had assured me a million times before, he would never go back to her. It just took a stage in the Public Theater and for Edward to play a completely different character for me to finally get it.

As the stage went dark and the curtains lowered, I heard the crowd around me erupt and I was back in New York again with Edward's family beside me. Victoria was directly to my left, on her feet and whooping even before the first actor took the stage. Emmett helped Carlisle stand up eventually, when Ben came on in his Big Daddy suit and tie. He'd done a fantastic job, but he'd need about forty years before he could really be believable.

A few seconds after Ben's bow, Jane and Edward jogged to the center of the stage from opposite sides. They were beaming. Jane was glowing. Edward was glorious. The applause was deafening. I felt like my heart was about to explode.

Everything Edward had worked for for months was a success. He was on his way to becoming a legend.

After Edward's second bow, he winked at me, then smiled at his family before turning to clap for Ben and Jane. Then, the curtains lowered and the audience began to disperse.

"Are you up for the after party?" Emmett asked his father, who was back in his seat. Carlisle nodded.

"No, I'm tired. But I'll be back here tomorrow. Did you see our boy up there? Did you see him, Emmett?"

"He was great, Dad." Emmett plopped down in his seat and adjusted the collar of his polo shirt.

"Great? He was more than great. He was a revelation. He was born to do this," Carlisle exclaimed. His eyes were luminous, like he had just discovered a miracle. No, there was something else going on in the depths of green and gold: a plan.

"I'm coming back tomorrow and every day until the last performance," Carlisle continued, staring up at the stage. Then, he looked over at his son. "Will you stay in New York with me? I know you have work but-"

"I do. I'm sorry. I have to see my patients. You know?"

"What about you, Victoria?" Carlisle said, craning his neck around Emmett.

"I've got work in the evenings. But-" Victoria said, looking over her shoulder. "How about going with Bella? You're free, right?"

"Umm..." I felt my face get hot.

"I'm sure she has plans," Carlisle replied for me abruptly. "You have school, correct? Edward told me this is your last semester?"

"Umm, yeah. Yes."

"I'll come with Siobhan, then. It won't be an issue." Carlisle smiled over at me. His eyes were intense and immediately reminded me of Edward's in the scene he had shared with Jane. Just as Edward looked when he had stared at Jane, Carlisle was disgusted.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Working on the next chapter today. I should have it ready in a couple of days. **

**Bye. **


	49. Chapter 46 The Exception

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author.**

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 46- The Exception**

**January 30, 2011**

Edward's dressing room at the Public Theater was becoming my favorite place. It was one of two places where he would kiss me, and they weren't chaste kisses, either. He saved the chaste kisses for our bedroom first thing in the morning. Here, he was ravenous for me, nibbling my lips, sucking my neck, making me crazed because he never wanted more than that. Whenever we'd come home after a show, he'd be too exhausted for anything.

On his days off, he would be working out the kinks of the production. Jane had found all kinds of issues opening night and "needed" to work with Edward to improve the lighting and sound. I thought the show was perfect, as did his Aunt, who had put on plays for over twenty years. But Jane would call early on Monday mornings over the past month and demand changes. So after a day with her, he was too tired to even talk. This would all change tonight, though.

"Do you have to meet your advisor this week?" he asked tonight after one of our hot and heavy make out sessions. His face was flushed so beautifully. The makeup team had finally bought a spray tan that didn't make him look like a carrot.

"Way to kill the mood, baby." I _was_ thankful he didn't mention my advisor by name. When winter break had ended last week, I had met the aloof Eleazar Estrella and was certain of two things: one, if I never saw that man again, I'd be the happiest woman in the world; and two, I did not want to work on my thesis.

I didn't want to get out of the honors program yet, however. I was too afraid to let it go. And I guess a part of me hoped I could squeeze something out. It was still January. I had so much time to bullshit.

"Sorry. I just worry, that's all." Edward pulled me closer into his arms, resting his clasped hands over my ass.

"Well don't. I don't have to meet him each week. Just once a month, if that. So, I was thinking we could go to Big Bear this weekend. I'd love to see the cabin." To go away with Edward and leave the rest of the world behind was exactly what I wanted forever, until my bones became ash.

He hummed, suddenly contemplative. "I don't think that's such a good idea. I've been so selfish with your time, and you gotta have so much work to do."

"I can handle a couple of days off," I chuckled, but he didn't reciprocate it. He patted my ass and stepped back to check his suit out in the mirror. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. The rest of the suit had become a bit tattered since the show had begun. It was torn a bit at the right knee, but Edward didn't want a replacement. He loved how worn it looked. It made his drunken character more believable. The only thing that couldn't even be a bit mussed was his hair.

"It'd be better if we stayed home," he looked up at me from the mirror.

"But you deserve some time to relax, to get away."

"I won't have to. I'll be fine. Besides, I love winter in New York. We can go ice skating at Wollman Rink on Monday."

I nodded, even though I didn't want to stay. Whatever Edward wanted was okay in the end, though. We would have fun anywhere because we were together.

After the show, the cast and crew rounded up on stage and surprised Edward and Ben with a cake. I looked at the white cake and knew Edward would hate every bite of it. He liked only my cakes and my meals. We barely ordered out anymore. He loved my cooking, and I was happy to oblige by making him fresh tomato sauce twice this month already. He knew how arduous it was, and promised to help next time, but I didn't mind the whole day I spent in the kitchen. I was creating something worthwhile, which was more than I could say for any work I'd do on my thesis.

I stood stage right behind a black curtain, spotting Carlisle front row center. Just as I had, he had come to every show as promised. Edward's Aunt stood next to Carlisle this time, not the nurse, helping Carlisle sit down. The audience continued to applaud but Carlisle had nothing left in him. Whatever the treatment was supposed to be doing didn't look like it was working. Carlisle's clothing was looser than they were at Christmas. And his forehead was wrinkled, like a paper bag. Victoria sat down and looked like she was asking him something, but when he answered, she had the most horrified look on her face.

I looked up at Edward, who hadn't noticed a thing, thankfully. He was heading backstage. Everyone was leaving except Victoria and Carlisle. As the audience made their way out of the auditorium, I watched her pat his shoulder. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, then asked her something. She nodded, stood up, and helped him get on his feet.

"Hey, you're still out here," I heard Edward's baritone in my ear as his arms folded over my middle. "What's up?"

I nodded down to his family and felt his chin land on my right shoulder. "I think something's wrong."

"What? Why?"

"I just saw Carlisle shed a tear." Edward's hands squeezed my stomach after I made the statement.

"Okay, I'll go find out what it is." Edward kissed my neck, then hurried down the stairs to catch up. In the middle of the auditorium, I watched Edward take Carlisle's hand. The three of them faced the exit, and I couldn't see their faces. But after a few minutes, I watched Edward's shoulders tense. Then, he turned around and hugged his dad.

We stood a few yards away from each other, but I could feel the pain in him. I thought back to opening night and the look in Carlisle's eyes after the first show. He'd had a plan in his eyes, and I was beginning to wonder if this wasn't a part of it.

Edward spoke to Carlisle and his aunt for another minute before they headed out and Edward jogged up the stage to me.

"What is it? What's wrong with your dad?" I asked, bringing my hand up to Edward's chest. He closed his hand over it, shaking his head.

"He couldn't say. He was having one of his seizures." Edward dropped his head, and I quickly hugged him.

"Oh God. I thought the treatment was supposed to help get rid of those?"

"I doubt that treatment is doing anything, Bella. You see how much more weight he's lost since he's been here." He hugged me tighter. "My aunt will take him home. He probably just needs some rest. He'll be fine. He'll be fine." He repeated this again.

"I wish I knew how to help you. I wish-"

"Wishes only get us so far." Edward pressed his lips against my ear. "No, tonight's gonna be about life and celebration." He stood back to stare into my eyes. "And love."

His kisses were deep and more passionate than any kiss since last year, but it wasn't indicative of what was in store the rest of the night. Instead, Edward celebrated with the cast and crew at Joe's Pub, a bar across the street, and left me sitting alone at the bar.

I watched him from the sidelines, trading jokes with everyone like he owned the place. Twenty minutes after we had arrived, he took the stage and began rapping this lewd rap about bitches and hoes. His friends loved it. I found it quite suspicious. Edward's appreciation for the genre wasn't a surprise. He had rapped for me before when we had done some karaoke. He hadn't chosen songs that used the words "bitches" and "hoes," though. Edward was "Big Pimpin'" tonight and at the top of the world for his friends. And the more time I spent watching him act up, the less I wanted to be there.

I felt like an outsider.

When he was about to go on stage for another song that I'm sure would've made his mother so so proud, I attempted to sneak out for the exit. He caught me, though, and ran up to catch me. He lifted me up and twirled me around. Everyone's eyes were on us, including Jane's. Hers were ice cold.

"Where're you going? I was about to serenade you," he asked after he put me down. "Come on."

"No." I pushed his hands down from my sides and crossed my arms. "This night is for you and your cast and crew. You guys worked really hard on this, and I don't wanna get in the way of that."

"Not this bullshit again. I'm so sick of hearing your excuses." The words exploded from his mouth, I flinched, and all the chatter in the room died around us. Muttering a curse, Edward apologized and grabbed my hand.

Then, the chatter picked up as quickly as it had died.

"Please don't yell like that," I mumbled, looking down at my feet. "Please."

"Let's just-" He ran his hand through his hair. "Let's go to the bathroom to talk, okay?"

Leading me down the dark narrow corridor, he pushed open the door, held it open for me, and let me pass by him before following me inside.

"I'm sorry for blowing up like that." His eyes were round and full of regret. "I really am. I know better than to do that with you."

I took a deep breath and let it out.

"It's okay."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, Bella." He crossed his arms over his chest. His t-shirts were tight around his shoulders again. He was already back to normal in terms of his weight. He was even more beautiful, now. I still had a long way to go before I was normal again.

"It's not okay. You're worried about my dad, aren't you?"

"Of course! Aren't you? I can't have fun tonight knowing that he could go any day."

He pressed his lips together and his nostrils flared. "You shouldn't worry for a man who despises you."

"It doesn't matter to me." My heart skipped a beat because this was only a half truth. I did want Carlisle to like me, but it didn't matter in the whole scheme of things. My feelings didn't matter.

"It _does _matter. He doesn't approve of you because he wants me to marry Jane. He's a control freak who won't let me make my own decisions unless he approves of them."

I cocked my eyebrow at the irony. All the times he refused to let me see Alice came to mind. And of course he had good reason to mistrust her, but he never approved of Jake, who's been nothing but a good friend to me.

He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of himself all of a sudden. So, I cleared things up for him.

"You told me over and over again that you didn't want us to be like your parents. Yet for months, you've tried to control me. Since the beginning."

His eyes bulged, yet quickly reset as he finally came to a realization. "Alice."

"And Jake," I offered.

He leaned back against the bathroom tile but kept his intense gaze on me. "Alice was dangerous. And Jake is..."

"My friend."

"A nuisance," Edward replied quickly. "Anyway, that's all past. The point is, I was trying to protect you. That's the last thing on my dad's mind. He just wants everything his way."

"And you don't?" This was a meek counter. "I told you I wanted to go home and you yelled at me in front of all your friends."

"That's because the reason why you want to leave is to mope around. Tonight, we should live. We're alive, Bella. Let's act like it."

I blushed, which instantly brought Edward forward. He stroked my cheek with a sigh.

"I wouldn't've moped. I don't mope."

"Bella, you mope." He frowned, dropping his hand down to his side again. "I just don't know why. Is it because I haven't been around? After tonight-"

"I know," I assured him with a nod. "Ice skating at Wollman Rink on Monday, right?"

"And every day after. We can do whatever you want."

"I told you what I wanted before the show, but you refused me."

He raised his eyebrows as another realization came to mind. "So, it's school."

"What? What's school?"

"It's why you you've been so moody. And why you wanna go to Big Bear so badly."

I rolled my eyes. "No, I wanna go to Big Bear because I've never been there."

"You don't have to act like it's not true. I know it is."

"Edward-" I turned around, walking past the line of bathroom stalls.

"Your advisor's a douche. Just focus on your work." He said this as if it was the easiest thing to do. "You're almost done."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "It's not him."

"Then what? What's the problem? You know whatever it is, you can deal with it. You dealt with all the shit I threw at you, you can deal with this."

I shook my head, then pressed my forehead against the stall door. My throat was heavy with forthcoming tears, and my heart pounded in my ears.

"I can't," I whispered so softly so that he wouldn't hear. But he did and walked up to me.

"Bella, you can. I'm here. I can help you. You're doing your thesis on Hamlet, right?" He rubbed my shoulder. "I know a thing or two about the bloke," he said with a British accent.

"I know Hamlet. That's not the problem."

"Then what is?"

Slowly, he turned me around to face him. Holding my face up, he stroked my tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs.

"I'm not cut out for this," I said with my eyes closed. "I'm not meant to write about Hamlet... or anything. I'll never work at The New Yorker. I'll never win a Pulitzer. I'm not smart enough."

"Baby, how could you say this? You _are _smart. You didn't get into that internship because you were an idiot, right?"

I shook my head. "No, I got in because of Alice." Opening my eyes, I saw Edward's gaze meet the floor.

"That's bullshit. You deserved it, and Alice knew it."

I shook my head. "Ms. Evanson told me herself that I wouldn't make it when I graduated. She thought there were other students who wrote better essays and," I sniffled. "She thought I was 'elementary.'"

Edward rolled his eyes. "So one woman tells you you're 'elementary' and you give up four years of hard work?"

"She's not just _any _woman. She's the editor of a prestigious magazine. She knows what's bullshit and what isn't. Why should I waste any more of my time doing something that I won't be good at?"

"You're just making excuses, stupid excuses. _This _is stupid, Bella."

It felt like a slap in the face. I gasped.

"Edward-"

"You're tougher than this, and smarter, and more resilient." He reached out to rub my chin. "Where's the girl I met, huh? Where did her strength go?"

It was something similar to what Jake had said. He missed the "old Bella." Coming from Edward, though, it had a different ring to it. He had asked me not to change, and I did. I changed in so many ways, which seemed inevitable because of how close we were. But what if I had changed too much for him? Before, I thought breaking the promise was what would tear us apart, or Alice, or the Klonopin. But what if it was just the fact that I wasn't me anymore?

And what if I could never get my strength back?

"I don't know," I told him, even though I did. Edward took my strength with one gaze, a stroke of my cheek, a whisper of my name. My strength ebbed every time I felt tingles down my arms and up my spine. I just couldn't tell him so. But when I looked up into his eyes, they were clouded over with shame. He knew he was the reason, too, but it didn't matter to him like it didn't to me.

I needed his eyes more than I needed my strength. I had nearly died without him. If I lost the Bella he had known, and if I dropped out of the honor's program, I'd survive. I just needed Edward.

Suddenly, the door banged open and Ben stumbled in with a huge goofy grin on his face.

"Hey man, Crowley's got a friend who can get us into Cipriani. Let's go!" He stretched out the last word, twirled around, and bumped into the door. He flung a flurry of curses at the door, swung it open, and left.

"Go," I muttered and wiped my eyes. "Please, this is your night."

"It should be ours. I want you to enjoy yourself."

"Not tonight! I'll live tomorrow. I just wanna go home, tonight."

"Okay," he said, taking my hand. He drew circles on the back of it. "I'll hail a cab for you, then."

"I've lived in this city for four years. I can hail my own cab. Go!"

He gave me a crooked smile, then kissed me on the cheek. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

I nodded and headed out.

It took ten minutes of shivering in a leather jacket Edward had bought me last week to hail down a cab. When I told him the address, he was more than happy to head uptown. Climbing into the car, I remembered all the times I tried to get to Brooklyn from the Village, and was denied. I really never wanted to go back there, ever.

I needed to sublet this time. Edward couldn't pay for the apartment indefinitely.

When I got home, I picked up all the books I had bought on Hamlet from the loveseat in our bedroom, and piled them up in the closet next to my shoes.

Then, I pulled out my iPad and typed in "craigslist new york sublet" in the search bar.

**February 20, 2011**

_Between You and Brandon, Inc._

_You February 20, 2011 8:15 a.m._

_I've been thinking about you a lot recently, thinking about how you were the only person in my life for months who really cared about me. You tried to keep me sane when I forgot the meaning of the word. So, I wanted to thank you. _

_You February 20, 2011 8:17 a.m. Dammit! Facebook changed the settings, so now when I hit return, my message gets cut up. Stupid Facebook! Anyway, I hope you're doing better and New Orleans is treating you right. Whenever you're back in New York, I'd love to take you out to Dallas BBQs for real this time. I still haven't had that tempura. I'd love to have it with you._

_Like you said to me last summer, it'll be okay. With time, life will be easier. I promise._

Alice hadn't written any updates since Christmas, when she wrote "Merry Christmas :)" as if nothing bad had happened the month before. She received hundreds of comments, but she didn't reply. I just wanted to tell Alice thank you, and hoped she saw this; even if she never replied to me, she would see this. I hoped she would.

I had no idea how else to reach her. I never remembered her number and an email seemed too informal. I didn't want to ask Erik how she was now, if she was any better or worse, or even still in New Orleans. It would open old wounds that I just did not want to face again.

"Bella?" I heard Edward call up from downstairs. "Get that cute ass of yours down here. You wanted to go for a run, let's go!"

"Alright, I'll be right down!" I turned off my iPad and met him at the foot of the stairs. He kissed me on my forehead, then took my hand.

"Now, I've warned you a dozen times that I'm a fast runner, and I don't slow down for anyone. For the final time, are you sure you can keep up?" He held the front door open for me.

"Yeah." I shrugged. "It's only six miles. I can handle it."

He rolled his eyes, which he'd been doing a lot since the show had ended. "Just don't get upset if I leave you behind."

"I won't get upset. So, come on. It's downright balmy out there. Let's enjoy it while we can."

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you."

Running was something Edward did every morning since the show had ended, too. Usually, he went to Equinox on Lexington and 68th because of the bitter cold that had plagued New York this month. This morning, the sun was shining, and Chris Cimino, the NBC weatherman, promised a high of fifty-five degrees. That was warm enough for me to finally join Edward for a six-mile jog, even if we weren't gonna go the whole way together.

And it started out easy enough. For the first mile, I kept his pace, which wasn't all that fast to begin with. He turned around and ran backwards from 90th St. to 100th St., praising me for my effort, but by the time we reached the top edge of the park, he turned back around and began to sprint. It was as if he were an Olympian, his back straight and his legs kicking up behind him. As with so much else he did in his life, he ran perfectly.

I tried to accelerate my speed but got winded five minutes later. I slowed down to a walk to the end of the park at 59th St., then jogged the rest of the way home. Alone. I guess a part of me thought Edward would change his habit and wait for me. I thought he'd make me the exception, but he didn't.

When I arrived on our floor, Edward was on the phone with someone. He hung up as soon as I approached him.

"Don't do that," I said, rolling my head around to loosen my neck muscles. "You should keep talking to... whoever that was."

"The conversation was over anyway," he scratched the side of his neck. "Hey, don't you have to meet the guy who's interested in leasing your mom's apartment soon?"

"Yeah. Um, Sam."

"Sam, your ex." He cocked his eyebrow.

"Yeah, Sam, my ex who I have no interest in whatsoever. You didn't have a problem when I told you about him before." I put my right hand on my hip and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I don't," he said with a grin. "I just want you to hurry back. It's Saturday. You know what we do on Saturdays."

I nodded. "It won't take long. I just have to pick up the deposit and give him the key." I sighed. "Then, I'm all yours."

"Good." He took my hand and held it up to his chest. "I have a lot of research to do today, too, so when you come back, just holler so that we can get started."

"That's not fair. Your audition's on Monday, right? I can work on my thesis alone when I get back." I didn't even have to do that much today. I had handed in my outline and first chapter to Eleazar last week. He told me he'd give me feedback yesterday afternoon, but I still hadn't heard from him. I tried not to think the worst of this. No news was good news, right? And he probably had nothing legitimate to say anyway.

"Bella-" he groaned.

"I can do the research alone."

"That's what you said last time when I found you lying in bed playing around on Facebook. I didn't buy the iPad so that you could talk to Jacob on Facebook." He sneered. "I bought it for your work."

"How dare you talk to me like I'm a child!" I snapped, yanking my hand out of his grasp.

"I wouldn't have to if you didn't act like one."

"Dammit! You're such a jerk, you know that? Your father would be so proud."

At the mention of his father, Edward winced. Then,

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I-"

"You! It's all about you and what _you_ want. Well, I don't wanna hear it anymore."

"Bella-"

"Do me a favor and don't talk to me about my thesis again. I never wanna hear the word come out of your mouth!" I turned for the front door, pulling out my keys.

"Fine, fail out of school. Be a loser. Be everything Esme said you'd be. But realize it's no one's fault but your own."

I opened the door and slammed it in his face, hurrying up the stairs to shower.

Twenty minutes later, when I headed downstairs, Edward was nowhere to be found.

The cab service I had called to take me to Brooklyn had no problem with the distance. When I asked him to wait for me for a couple of minutes while I met with Sam, he had no issue with that, either. Living on the Upper East Side was just dandy.

I spotted Sam once the driver turned the corner to my old block.

He looked so different. His hair was gone, and he looked like he had gained twenty pounds of muscle, especially around his wide shoulders. He searched around the block, wary of the urban surroundings. He had always hated coming down here. It was way too "urban" for him. Now, he'd be living in it.

"Bella!" He smiled as soon as I stepped out of the cab.

"Hey!" I walked up to him, craning my neck up, forgetting how tall he was.

"Hey." He did the awkward thing exes do, where he stepped in to hug me, hesitated for a second, then hugged me anyway. I patted him on the back. A lot more muscle. "I'm kinda in a hurry, so..." I gave him the spare key.

He shook his head, gleaming white teeth appearing behind a thick black beard.

"Damn, can I just take a look at you? It's been so long."

I twirled around, then raised my hand for the deposit.

"Nice," he smirked. "Why're you in a hurry, anyway? What's goin' on with you?"

"The usual. School, school, school. You know me."

"Ah well, I'm glad you're doing well. You look great. I liked you with a bit more meat on you."

"Thank you. Now where's the deposit. I have stuff to do today."

"Oh really, what?"

"I-" Then, it hit me that I actually had nothing to do. I didn't want to work on my paper. and Edward probably wasn't even home. I was rushing for no reason. It must've been out of habit. I rarely went out anymore unless it was with Edward.

I paid the cab driver and told him I didn't need him after all. Then, I looked up at Sam's big brown eyes. He wouldn't stop staring at my ass, as usual.

"You never gave me a tour of the place," he said with a warm smile. His eyes, on the other hand, were in the dark recesses of a gutter full of debauchery.

"Don't think we'll just pick up where we left off. I told you I'm living with my boyfriend didn't I?"

"It's just a little harmless flirting. I'm taken, too." He opened the front door for me. "Ladies first."

"Thank you," I said on my way in. "You'll keep your hands to yourself, won't you?"

"I'm a gentleman. Of course I will."

"So, a girlfriend, huh?" I walked up the stairs, feeling his eyes on me. "Will she be moving in with you any time soon?" I had a feeling he'd say no with all the flirting he was doing, but I was wrong.

"Maybe. I really like the girl. She's smart like you, ya know?"

I blushed. "I'm not that smart."

"You got into Tisch, didn't you? And you're in the honors program. Idiots don't get into the honors program."

"Yeah, I guess so."

When we arrived at the top floor, I pointed to my door at the end of the hallway. I lowered my gaze to my feet, remembering the last night I was here. Jake was in town recording, Alice was missing, and Edward wasn't talking to me. I felt like I had lost so much since Thanksgiving. The only thing, the only person, I had left was Edward.

As the five locks clicked open, shivers went up and down my spine. The clicks echoed down the hallway in a different tone, but the memory remained.

_One. Two. Three. Four. Five._

_"Stop speaking. I never want to hear another lie, another sound, out of your mouth." _

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked. He placed his hand on the small of my back. "You look like you're about to cry."

I wiped the tears before they could fall. "Yeah. I'm fine. Hands!"

He raised both palms in surrender. "You're simply irresistible, Bella."

When I opened the door, a huge dead cockroach greeted us in the hallway.

"Monstercockroach? Meet Sam. Sam? Monstercockroach."

He laughed at me as we walked past it. "I'm guessing there's a fraternity full of his friends waiting for me in your kitchen and bathroom."

When we turned for the living room, my two boxes remained planted in the center, full of stuff that would still be too big for me.

It smelled like a dozen rats died in here. Sam made a face.

"Sorry about the pests and smell. I must have rotting food in the garbage in the kitchen. And I'll throw out the boxes today."

Sam shrugged. "I've lived in worse, Bella. This is pretty sweet. Now, where's the bedroom?"

My stomach rolled at the thought of going back in there. That was worse than the living room at the penthouse. All those nightmares, all the pain and fear.

"You are such a bad flirt," I said through a hollow laugh. Sam laughed along as he walked ahead and turned the corner. "It's straight ahead and to the left. You don't have any furniture, do you? I'd prefer it if you didn't move any of my mom's stuff."

"I won't mess with a thing." His voice was muffled by the walls. "Wow, this room is huge." He walked back out, to the living room, putting his hands in his coat pockets. "And so many windows. I haven't lived in an apartment with that many windows ever."

"You see the tiny bathroom," I said. It was across the bedroom. "The kitchen's through there," I said pointing to my left. "I can clean up if you want."

"Nah,' Sam said, scratching the back of his hand. I noticed a new tattoo there. It was a woman's name: Emily.

"Nice tattoo," I told him. He grinned, suddenly sheepish.

"She's special this one. I feel like a whole new person because of her."

I nodded. "Yeah, that's how I feel about my boyfriend." I stuttered when I said "boyfriend." "I don't even feel like calling him 'boyfriend.' It's so not the right word to describe him."

"Soulmate maybe?"

"No, that's too cliched." I walked over to the boxes, lifting up a pillow and a bottle of shampoo. It was the kind Edward loved, the pear-scented one. "I just feel helpless without him, even though he makes me weak. Sometimes, I feel blind, deaf, and dumb when I'm with him. Other times, I feel the most alive. I don't know what it is."

"Well, with Emily, I feel like she's crack," Sam's face lit up with a huge smile. "And I'm her addict."

Earlier on in our relationship, I had thought that what Edward and I had shared was exactly that: an addiction. I had felt like I had had withdrawals whenever he was only a few feet away from me. But so much had happened since then, and my feelings had grown to a point where I felt like I simply could not fathom living without him. Maybe that's exactly what addiction was? How else could I feel so good when I was with him yet feel so lost at the same time?

Sam laughed at me. "You look like you're over-thinking something. Did I hit a nerve?"

"No," I shook my head. "No. Umm, I'm gonna call a cab. Can you help me bring down these boxes? I'll show you where to throw out small and large garbage items. Oh, and the mailbox."

Taking the boxes downstairs with Sam's help was so much easier and quicker than hauling them up the stairs alone last year. I thought about donating these clothes, but some of my things were years old and so ratty that they had to be thrown out.

As I was pulling out junk mail from my mailbox, my phone beeped. It must've been an email. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it could've been an email from either Alice or Eleazar. I looked forward to neither.

"Hey, if you have to go, now, don't let me keep you," Sam said, locking the mailbox door. "Thanks for everything, Bella. I really hate the neighborhood, but the apartment's perfect."

"You'll get used to living here. It's really not that bad. If you need anything, you have my number and email address. I'm available any time." He gave me a wolfish grin. "Sam!"

"I'm just kidding. Jeez, Bella. Lighten up. You're so serious these days."

_Edward would wholeheartedly disagree._

"Whatever. Bye." I waved goodbye as I pulled out my cell phone. The email was from Eleazar:

_From: Eleazar Estrella_

_To: Isabella Swan_

_Subject: On Hamlet_

_Saturday, February 20, 2011 2:31 PM_

_Your work in the first chapter is abysmal. You must submit a rewrite by the end of this week. This is unacceptable, Bella._

_Eleazar Estrella_

I felt my gut fill up with stones. God, I wanted to throw the phone across the street. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to strangle Eleazar.

It should've been enough. Why was what I did never enough anymore?

But above all else, I wanted to see Edward. And even if he protested against it, I wanted to make love to him. No, I needed to. I had been in my body for too long. I needed to be in his, to be surrounded by his, and to deny my own.

I called him and told him that I needed him to get home. I needed to see him and forget that I was a loser. He said he'd be there as soon as he could, something about a meeting was mentioned, but he didn't elaborate and I didn't care. As soon as I hung up, I thought of his taste and his skin and his eyes.

God, I needed Edward. I needed to drown in his green pools and never surface.

* * *

**A/N: Suddenly, this week has gotten so busy. When I thought I'd have time to write, I, all of a sudden, don't. I will have time this evening and all weekend to wrap this sucker up. So readers, expect at least one more chapter by Monday. And next week, I should have the final three uploaded. It's really coming together, and I can't wait to see what you think of Bella's transformation. **

**Chapter 47 will be titled "Art."**

**Bye :)**


	50. Chapter 47 Art

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author. **

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 47- Art**

**February 20, 2011**

"Bella, what's wrong?" Edward asked as he rushed up to me under the awning. I didn't want to go upstairs yet. I had to see him before I went upstairs.

I hugged him, burying my face into his chest. Unbuttoning his coat, I felt his abs expand and contract. I wanted to feel more than these muscles. Standing on the tips of my toes, I pulled his parted lips down to my eager ones.

"Bella," he mumbled against my lips. "Stop."

I held him closer, already feeling him react to me. His words weren't expressing what he really wanted. He wanted more.

"Please," I murmured, kissing his jawline and down to the side of his neck. "Please do this for me."

He pushed me back, but I quickly gripped his forearms and hooked them around my waist. I wanted them to meld to my skin. Every hair, muscle, and sinew on his arms, I wanted them to be mine.

"What happened?" His eyelids were low, and I could barely see his eyes, but I didn't have to. His voice asked a question, but he was telling me he wanted me.

"I don't... I can't... I need you, Edward. Please."

I backed into the doors, the weekend guard opening them for us. Keeping Edward's arms around my waist, I continued to lead him to the elevator without taking my eyes off of him. He was too worried, as if he didn't know he was my salvation. He would make this pain go away. Every pain. Forever.

As soon as the doors shut behind him, I dropped the bag I brought from my apartment to the floor. Pulling off my coat, I held his gaze. Finally, his eyes were opening up and letting me take the lead. I pushed his coat off of his shoulders.

"Bella," he groaned, holding my hands still. "Talk to me."

"No." I stood on the tips of my toes again to kiss him, and he didn't pull away. His lips were so soft. His kisses were like cream and sugar and goodness. I didn't have to disrobe him after this kiss. He let go of my hands and pulled his coat off himself. It joined mine on the elevator floor.

I gasped for more of his air. His every exhalation was like manna. "Take me. Take me."

His eyes wide, he lifted me up by my ass. Wrapping my legs around his back, he squeezed my ass and walked over to the wall. Then, he hit the button to stop the car. I sighed.

Arching my back against the wall, I reached for the zipper on his jeans, and he reached for mine. I realized we didn't have condoms and didn't care. It would only mean that I was closer to Edward. This union would be perfect.

I kissed his neck, wishing I could do more. I wanted to raise a shrine to it for delivering such a beautiful voice every time he opened his mouth. Feeling my way around his boxers for the buttons, I sought to give him as much pleasure as he gave me. His fingers hooked into my jeans to yank them down my hips and thighs. My panties went right down with them. He took a deep breath of my wet scent.

"Fuck!" He groaned. Then, he moaned my name into my ear like a prayer. I lowered my feet to the floor to let him push my jeans and panties down to my ankles. My toes curled in my boots before he unlaced and yanked them off. After following my boots to the floor, my jeans and panties lay in a heap beside our feet. I stood with one foot bare and one sock-covered.

On his way up my body, he kissed my left thigh and rubbed my clit with his thumb. Tears spilled from my eyes. How could his one thumb feel so good? How could it bring me so close to ecstasy and oblivion?

"Beautiful girl, I don't wanna hurt you," he said into a feverish kiss.

"Never. Never again. Never." I moaned, lifting my left leg around his hip, I pulled out his hard cock and began to jerk him off.

We cursed together. God, it was so soft but hard and perfect. I needed to surround him and make his cock my own. I needed him to become a part of me.

After only seconds, Edward's eyes became sheepish as he stopped my hand and interlocked our fingers. With a sweet kiss, he lifted me off the floor again. His eyes like the center of the sun, he entered me.

He entered me, and I forgot the monster. I saw the god and was free of all the guilt and pain and fear. I was stronger now. I absorbed all of his wounds and washed them away. I was his salvation, and he was mine.

We called out our names in perfect harmony. And then...

His green pools became geysers. I swear, everything in him flowed into me. I was on the precipice of a new life, one that didn't involve pain or fear or brown eyes. I was at the edge and about to jump as he called out my name again.

"Bella. Bella. Bella." It was as if he were singing a new song about love. My name meant love.

We collected our breaths and our heartbeats were one and the same. I licked his skin, his sweat and sighed as he pulled out of me. He was so sweet.

"Bella," he said, stroking my flushed cheek.

After helping me pull on my clothes and boots, Edward pressed the bottom button, and the car began to move once more.

"Whatever it was that made you sad," he said while embracing me, "Whatever it will be, I'll always make it go away for you." The car doors slid open to our door and a calming peace blanketed me. "I'm here, Bella. I'll make it better."

Ogling the back of Edward's head as he opened the door, I took a deep breath then stopped.

_It's happening again. _

I felt butterflies in my stomach, and my heart beat loudly as I licked my wrist. I whimpered.

So close. I was so close to tasting like him.

We made love again in our bed that night. And again until we fell asleep. His eyes had never been brighter. They had become my North Star. I would follow them anywhere.

When I woke up the next morning, I saw something that both terrorized and fascinated me.

It was right before I went into the shower, and it lasted only a second, but I was sure it wasn't my imagination.

From our bathroom mirror, I saw the golden flecks, the luminous light, and the deepest green pools in the world... right in the depths of my eyes. In that brief moment, there wasn't a trace of boring Bella brown in my eyeballs, there was pure green light and fire.

Dropping to the floor in shock, I shut my eyes, counted to ten, opened them, then checked the mirror again.

The fire was gone.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I couldn't be losing it.

No.

I wasn't going crazy.

***Art***

_From: Isabella Swan _

_To: Eleazar Estrella _

_Subject: On Hamlet_

_Monday, February 21, 2011 8:40 AM_

_Thank you for being such a shitty advisor. I'm dropping out of the honors program. Enjoy your summer._

_Bella._

***Art***

**March 18, 2011**

I felt stronger.

Over the last few weeks, I ran every morning with Edward. I got a membership at Equinox and kept his speed for the first twenty minutes until he began to sprint. At first, it was hard. I was sore the first week, and Edward tended to my muscles, trying to get me to stop. But every morning, I'd wake up without him lying beside me, standing at the closet door in his sweats, and couldn't stay in bed. I had to go with him. It was the only place we went together, unless we went out on a date. He wouldn't let me go to his auditions with him.

"Bella, I just need to go on my auditions alone," he had explained yesterday. He had sworn that I brought him luck, but he needed to focus. This was getting harder for him to do, now. He seemed to forget his lines if he saw me an hour before his auditions. So, he'd leave right after our morning workout and come back home, usually with bad news. All I could do was wait for him.

"I know you don't wanna do your thesis anymore," he said, stroking my cheek yesterday. "But you gotta find something else to do. You can't stay at home all day and wait for me. It's not fair to you, Bella."

I nodded, wishing I had enough motivation for him, but I wanted nothing to do with school. I had had enough to deal with.

Every morning, as I'd brush my teeth, I would see his eyes in mine a little bit longer. Even after several blinks, the light and fire remained.

I didn't tell Edward this. I didn't want anyone to know. I would handle it on my own, and eventually, my eyes would be normal and boring again. I just needed time, time and a plan. This should've been easy to accomplish considering all the free time I had, but I used the bulk of that time on Edward, cooking for him, thinking of ways to get away from New York for a bit, thinking of ways to show him how much I loved him.

Edward didn't want me to do any of these things that I loved doing and would continue to do for the rest of my days. He wanted me to establish my own life.

After our run this morning, Edward showered at the gym and headed for the audition. I walked home as quickly as I could, looking forward to preparing dinner for us. When I got home, an email I received from school should've been a major wake up call, but it felt more like a final statement.

By dropping out of the honors program, Tisch revoked my scholarship. In black and white and plain English the entire university was telling me that I was no longer good enough. They couldn't even give me pardon. After three and a half years of earning a 3.8 GPA, I couldn't even get a bit of a break.

By the time Edward got home that evening, he was so excited, he could've bounced off the walls. When I asked him what the good news was over dinner, he wouldn't tell me, claiming it would be bad luck.

"This is about your audition, isn't it?" I asked, cutting up the lasagna for him. He liked it spicy and in little squares. Pulling me onto his lap, he kissed my shoulder. The chair where I used to sit for dinner had been vacant since the night we made love in the elevator.

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I'm just happy you're close to the weight you were last summer." He pinched my side and grabbed more than skin. "You'll be perfect by my birthday, I know it. You'll be even more beautiful."

He picked up the fork after I was done chopping and raised it up to my lips. "Eat, Bella."

I did as I was told just to see his eyes light up. He wanted what was best for me. It wasn't like this before, when he sucked me dry when he needed me. He wanted to see me grow like he was growing. He wanted me to be happy. I felt deep down that this was the best time for us: no secrets, no lies, no mysteries left, nothing but us and our brand of love. I should've been happier because of this. I should've been bouncing off the walls, too, but I wasn't.

As I swallowed the cheesy goodness, a deep frown darkened Edward's light.

"What's wrong?"

I took his hand and held it up to my lips. "I lost my scholarship," I said into his salty rough palm. I kissed it.

"Oh no. God, I'm sorry."

"It was bound to happen, right?" Stabbing a bigger slice of lasagna, I gobbled it up. "I'll figure something out, I guess."

"Not by sitting here doing nothing all day." He grunted.

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"No."

"No?" I cocked my eyebrow.

"No." He wiped some sauce off the corner of my lip.

"You're just gonna say, 'No,'" I lowered my voice to try to match his. "And expect me to do what you want?"

He turned his head in disagreement. "I want you to do what you think is best."

"Well, what if I think staying home is best for now?"

"No."

"Why is it such a problem for you?"

"This is beneath you, don't you see?"

My stomach tied in knots. I didn't feel that way at all. Should I have felt this way? What was wrong with me?

"I could start interning somewhere, I guess," I stuttered. "I could get a head start on everyone else because they'll be busy with exams," I said with a hollow laugh. I didn't want to do this, though. I just wanted to make Edward proud of me.

"Where would you wanna work?" He asked, taking the fork from me. He stabbed a huge chunk of lasagna himself and stuck it in his right cheek. It was so cute.

"I don't know. I don't even know what I'm good at."

"Writing, for one. What about an internship at another magazine? Or a website? I can ask around if you'd like?"

"Really?" I thought about the blog I was supposed to helping Kate build last summer and how I failed miserably at doing even that. Still, I asked, "Who do you know?"

"Ben knows a lot of people. I'm sure he'd love to help you."

"Ben." I remembered his grin backstage the night of the final show. And he did apologize to me last year when Edward had gone missing for assuming I was another manifestation of Jane. Maybe Ben would help?

"Yeah. Don't worry, he's not angry with you anymore," Edward mumbled through a mouth full of lasagna.

"Okay."

"Good. We'll talk tomorrow and everything will be good again. You can start school in the Fall."

"Okay." I clenched my stomach and lost my breath. My body rejected even the idea of school.

"Okay?" He paused. Brushing my hair off my shoulder, he said, "You sound like you don't want this at all."

"I just need time to think about it."

Everything in me wanted nothing to do with working at an internship or writing or anything that Edward was pushing me to do. My stomach remained tied in knots the rest of the night.

As we lay in bed facing each other, I broke into tears. It could've been for the lost scholarship or for Edward's disappointment in me, or because I was coming face to face with something that I had known for months now: what if Edward _was_ an addiction?

I wanted nothing else in my life but Edward. This couldn't be normal. Even Edward didn't feel this way. He had his own life outside of this penthouse, a life he wanted to keep separate from me; I didn't have that anymore. And he constantly had to push me to go out, which wasn't fair to him. I should just want to do it of my own volition.

All that was bad enough. I shouldn't see his eyes in mine. That was beyond anything anyone sane had ever experienced. The tingles, the weird withdrawal symptoms, and my panic attack when he'd gone to L.A., that was nothing. People had panic attacks all the time. People felt butterflies in their stomachs and tingles up their spines all the time when they were in love. They didn't hallucinate.

All those nights while Edward was away, I thought I heard his voice. I was... I was really going mad? Was that just the beginning? Was I truly becoming Ophelia?

He wiped my tears, and his fingers felt like they were mine. He said the most soothing things, his voice sounding like it was coming from my subconscious. How could he be a drug? He wasn't heroin. He wasn't bad for me. Edward was becoming a part of me.

Brushing my teeth the next morning, I saw more green light than ever before. It lasted a full minute this time. I had to tell Edward I wasn't feeling well, and he went to the gym without me.

Around noon, while Edward went out to meet Ben, I got an unexpected call on the landline from a dying man.

"Bella, I'm outside." Carlisle's usually smooth voice was raspy this morning. I did a double-take, wondering what he could possibly want from me.

"Um, I'm... You meant to call Edward right?" I gripped the phone like it was a rope, and I was dangling at the edge of a cliff.

"No you, my dear. Please come downstairs immediately."

_My dear?_

"O- Okay."

I hung up, cramps seizing my right hand. It was white all the way to my wrist. I stared at the phone, which had been charging in kitchen since we had moved in (no one called the landline, ever). Standing in the hallway, I shifted my gaze to the living room straight ahead.

What was so scary about it, really? The memories had faded. I didn't hear his screams or remember the taste of iron in my mouth from the blood that had mysteriously appeared. We would have new memories to share here, and they would replace the terror. All I had to do was take a step.

Through the terrace doors, the sky was white. Puffy clouds floated by quicker than they should have. It would be a windy day in New York. The season was changing. In only a couple of weeks, the summer heat would weigh us down and slow our steps to a sluggish pace. There would be so much to enjoy, then. Edward hadn't gotten any roles yet, but I was confident that he'd star in another play. And I'd be right by his side, stronger than ever. Every night, we would enjoy warm summer evenings on the terrace together. I could see this as if it had already happened.

So, loosening my grip on the phone, I took a step. Then, another. Then, I took another step and stood right next to the coffee table. In another second, I stood in front of the couch. And right in the middle of it, I lay the handset on the leather.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on how normal it looked. It was as if it had been flung absently, after a fun chat with a friend. It sort of belonged on that couch, not the phone hook in the kitchen.

I looked up at the terrace again, remembering when I tripped up the steps and when Edward tended to my injury. With a slight grin, I bent over to affectionately rub my knee before leaving the living room behind.

I had scarier things to face in my life, scarier people, than old memories.

"Come in," Carlisle said when I had gotten downstairs. He was in a black Mercedes that looked like the one I saw in L.A. He sat cross-legged in the back, alone, with a bright smile. His driver was a lot less chipper, holding the back door open for me. His gray eyes reminded me of Carlisle's granite desk.

"Hi Carlisle." I stared at his knee as I climbed in because his face was so gaunt and pale. He wore a black beanie, a black v-neck sweater, and brown corduroys, all hanging from his body like he was a scarecrow made of straw. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. Today's a good day, which is why I called to see you. I'm only in New York for a day, and I felt it was imperative that we discuss my son."

"Edward."

"Yes, Edward," he replied quickly. "This won't take long. Did you have other plans for the day?"

"No, I-"

"Good."

The driver slammed the door shut behind me.

"We're gonna go for a little ride. Less than ten minutes, Bella. I hope this is okay with you."

"It is." I replied in a breath, anticipating another interruption. Of course, Carlisle obliged.

"Fantastic. The last thing I would want is for you to feel uncomfortable around me. I would like to apologize for my behavior last Christmas. I wasn't myself."

"It's okay. I understand." The driver climbed into the front seat and pulled away from the curb.

"Good. Now, to get to the point. I want to talk to you about your relationship with Edward."

Shifting in my seat, I stared straight ahead, down 70th St.

"We're very happy," I stated as stoically as possible.

"And that's fine and good, but you don't know my son. You've never seen him truly happy."

I winced. Keeping my eyes shut and squeezing the tan leather seat beneath me, I whispered, "I have. Since the beginning of this year, he's been so much better."

"I'm sorry to say that he's been much happier, and healthier, sweet girl, than he was earlier this year."

At the sound of the word, "healthier," I thought of Edward's complaint last month about how his father wanted him to marry Jane.

"You haven't seen him since you arrived, have you? He's doing so much: going for auditions-"

"None of which he's landed."

"It's-"

"And why do you think that is, Bella?"

I pressed my lips together, at the brink of screaming.

"You're not the first young person who loved a talented actor." His voice suddenly became softer. "I don't know how much Edward told you about his mother, but she and I were in love. You couldn't find two people who loved each other more than we did. She was everything to me."

When I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye, he was staring out of his window. A woman with blue hair walked what looked like twenty dogs down the sidewalk.

"She gave up a lot, you know? She thought she was doing what was best for our family, and she gave up something she once told me she'd die if she ever stopped doing it. When Elizabeth and I met, her art was her life. And when I became her life, a part of her soul died. She didn't want to admit it, but it did."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I didn't know if I should believe him. He didn't seem like the type to be upfront about anything, let alone to me, a girl he didn't like. Edward and Victoria made it seem like he was the one who pushed Elizabeth to leave her career behind. Of course he'd spin the story to make it seem like it was all her idea.

"I'm telling you because I know that you're on the same path. And I don't want you to hold my son back. He's bound for great things."

"You have no idea what you're talking about. You don't even know me," I said with bated breath. I felt like I was in a cocoon made of newly-spun glass. It would crack any moment.

"I don't have to know you. I know my son, and I know what you did to him last year."

I scoffed, my heart racing. _Whatever Edward was in L.A. was not just because of me. He and Emmett lied to him, too. _

I couldn't say this aloud, though. How could I say anything but the nicest thing to a dying man?

"We've worked everything out. He'll never go through that again."

"Do you know how many years of therapy my son has had?" _As if I didn't know that. Edward told me. He's told me everything. _"His mother's death, his best friend's, the terrible incident with Alice. He's worked through so much of that and has gotten better, Bella. He was the happiest over the last few years, and we were so relieved, Emmett and I."

_Just what exactly did you think he'd do?__ R__ape all of L.A. if you didn't step in__?_

"Edward just had a little bit of a rough time, and now it's over. So, you and Emmett have nothing to worry about," I uttered through my teeth.

"I'm sorry, but I can't take the word of a little girl who sent my son to the brink of destruction."

"Okay, I think I've had enough." I raised my head to speak to the driver. "Let me out, please."

"Do you know that Emmett and I pleaded with Edward to seek help with his former therapist?" Carlisle continued as if I hadn't said anything. "We tried everything to get him help, but he refused. Even as an obstinate teen, he agreed to go. And now..."

"He's fine now."

"He is _not _fine. Again, you don't know my son."

I took a deep breath. The cocoon was cracking.

"Whoever Edward was back then," I asserted, "he's not the same kid. He's learned from his mistakes, and he won't repeat them."

From my periphery, I could see Carlisle turn in his seat to face me.

"Yes," he said. "And you're going to do everything in your power to help him never make those mistakes again."

I cocked my eyebrow but kept my eyes on the road ahead.

"I don't know how else you'd like-"

"It's fairly simple, Bella."

The car turned left on Lexington Ave.

"All you have to do is leave Edward."

The cocoon split into two, then burst into a million pieces. I swiveled around in my seat to face Carlisle.

"_Excuse me?" _

"Please keep your voice down. You wouldn't want to startle Peter, would you?" He asked, looking at the back of his driver's head.

I clasped my hands on my lap with a huff. "Fine."

"Good."

"So, let me get this straight." The car turned left on 71st. It looked like we were going back to the penthouse. "You think the only way Edward can get better, even though he's already better, is if he and I broke up?"

"Precisely."

"How _dare _you!"

"How dare _you_! Edward was in a happy committed relationship before you had the audacity to break them up without a care in the world."

I shook my head. "Jane? This is all about your sick fascination with her. And you thought Edward was happy with _her_?"

"I _know _he was happy with her. He was stable." I cringed at the sound of the word. I should've been Edward's stability. I've never been. "He's never come home completely distraught over her, starving himself, staying up in his room for _months _like he did last summer."

_Yeah, because his father wasn't dying._

"You assume so much," I muttered. "You don't know what was going on with them. She didn't make him happy."

When we stopped at a light on Madison, Carlisle suddenly began to speak in this gibberish. I couldn't make out anything he was saying and felt completely helpless. Despite our conversation, I began to cry. No one deserved to be a victim to this sort of disease.

"It's a seizure. Don't worry about it," Peter said as we turned onto Fifth Ave. "He'll be fine. Just make sure he doesn't physically harm himself."

"Um, okay." I saw that Carlisle's arms were down at his lap, and his legs were still crossed. The gibberish ceased as we stopped in front of the awning at 880 Fifth Ave. That was when he grasped his words once more.

"Edward's on his way. You can't understand the pressures of a young genius in Hollywood. You won't be able to handle it."

I rubbed the back of my neck, which made Carlisle chuckle.

"Edward does that when he's uncomfortable. I've made you uncomfortable, haven't I? After I swore I wouldn't."

_As if my well-being is at the top of your list of priorities._

"I'm fine. I don't think I can help you out, though. Nor do I need to. You're worried over nothing. I can handle the pressure."

"I thought I could, too, when I was around your age. It's just not possible. Edward needs to focus."

This was what Edward had said himself over the last month, which left me speechless. He _could_ focus. He could be with me and be fine.

"Over these next few months, especially, he can't have any distractions."

"What does that mean? You're planning something?" I sat at the edge of the seat. "What is it?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Bella. Now, I want you to think about everything I've said, and I want you to make a decision before June. I don't have a lot of time, left."

"Carlisle-"

"Peter, let the girl out," Carlisle said, leaning his head back. He shut his eyes. "I'm tired."

"Just like that, we're done?" I watched Peter open his door and get out.

"I'll keep in touch, Bella. Just don't make the wrong decision."

Peter opened my door and offered his hand to help me out. I was about to say goodbye to Carlisle as Peter shut the door closed in front of me.

I didn't hesitate to hurry inside. I had had enough of that man. I bet he thought he could use his illness to his advantage, as if it would make me pity him, but how Edward chose to live his life should have nothing to do with what Carlisle wanted. He didn't know what was best for Edward any more than he knew what was best for me. And Edward was perfect now. He hadn't gotten any auditions, but he would because he was talented. And I'd be the last person to hold him back.

Seeing Vincent at the desk, I waved. Slowly, he raised his gnarly hand and beckoned me to join him.

"Miss? A gift."

I grinned, taking the tiny box from him. It was long and narrow. A little bit wider than a pen. A note card hung from the side.

_"For my . -Edward."_

I lifted the lid as I walked to the elevator. Not surprisingly, a slender blue pen was inside. I shook my head. I hadn't used a pen for anything in months. Even when I was in school last Fall, I used the iPad to keep all of my notes.

"Couldn't buy me a blender, could you?" I rolled my eyes, staring at the floor as I waited for the elevator to arrive.

_I'll never be a writer. __I don't have to be. I have Edward. He's all I need._

When I got inside, I flung my coat onto the couch right along with the pen.

"Silly dreams. It'll never come true."

_I __just need to stop hallucinating, and everything will be good. I'll be better because Edward's perfect. I just need more time__._

* * *

**A/N: The next three chapters will be uploaded by Thursday, July 25th.**

**The next chapter: Chapter 48 "Keys.**

**Bye :)**


	51. Chapter 48 Keys

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author. **

**A/N: Hi :)**

* * *

**Chapter 47- Keys**

**May 17, 2011**

"Hello Bella. It's Carlisle. I see you're still avoiding me. I hope you've had some time to reconsider my proposition. I would like to remind you of a caveat. If you leave my son, I will give you one hundred thousand dollars. Just say the word, and the check will be written. You know how to reach me."

Carlisle left a lot of messages like this, and I deleted every single one of them. He assumed I wanted all the wrong things from Edward: his connections - Carlisle assumed I was an actress trying to use Edward for his connections and gave me the names and telephone numbers of agents and managers- his status - Carlisle assumed I wanted a seat in high society and promised he'd give me an in to every Upper East Side club I could imagine- and of course, his money - this one hundred thousand dollar check was his third attempt. The first was for twenty five thousand dollars.

I never responded because I was so insulted, nor did I tell Edward, because I didn't think it was worth telling him. Now, it was. Carlisle was like a gnat who I couldn't swat away. He needed to be squished.

So, this afternoon, after Edward returned from another failed audition, I shared the voice mail with him. To my surprise, he took it remarkably well.

"This isn't the first time he's done this. This musician I dated in high school 'came from the wrong side of the tracks," he said with air quotes. I used to hate when he did this but kinda liked it now. "She received the same 'attention' from him." Edward rolled his eyes.

"Okay, well, he needs to stop," I said, plopping down on the couch. Rubbing my eyes, a flash of this morning's memory returned to me. I saw more than Edward's eyes in the mirror. I heard his thoughts. I could swear it.

I didn't hear anything revealing. He was reciting lines from a play he had an audition for in a couple of days: Glengarry Glen Ross. He was going for the role of Blake, which Alec Baldwin played in the movie. It wasn't the starring role, but he had to shoot low these days. He wasn't getting any lead roles.

_"A-I-D-A: Attention. Interest. Decision. Action."_

It was all I'd heard.

I didn't know why this was happening. I had never been healthier or happier. I only had about five more pounds to gain until I was normal again. I had muscles in places I never seen before thanks to all the running and training Edward and I did. I wasn't the least bit stressed. Edward and I were in sync. We even got the same cravings at the same time. It was so much fun ordering dinner at Spice before he got home and seeing his face when I told him I made the order.

Sometimes, I thought maybe I was spending too much time with him. The hallucinations were only in the morning, after we had lain together for hours and hours. The nights we made love made the ability to hear his thoughts that much more potent. So, maybe it _was_ the proximity...

_If we spen__d__ any time apart, then would they stop? __Will__ I see my eyes again? _

"Dad won't harass you anymore, Bella. I'll make sure of it. Now, go get ready. The sooner we can go to Jessica's party, the sooner I can take that hot yellow dress off of you." He slapped my ass.

"This old thing?" I stood on my tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you for this, baby. I would've had nothing to wear tonight if you hadn't picked it up."

He wriggled his eyebrows. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

I pinched his side, continuing to marvel at how we read each other so well these days. Jessica sent me the e-vite a couple of days ago and Edward bought the dress yesterday. Literally the moment I was freaking out because I ransacked my closet and found nothing to wear, he was at Saks buying the tight mini. He got the perfect size, too. I'd look stellar tonight because of him, even though it'd be the only thing that I could be proud of.

In about a half an hour, I would be surrounded by Tisch graduates. They were no longer my peers. They were now better than I could ever be, and I didn't want to care, but I did. The dress would have to represent all of my cheer. I didn't think I'd be capable of keeping a smile on my face after the twentieth question about why I wouldn't be joining them at the ceremony in a couple of weeks. Telling my parents that I wasn't graduating was hard enough. And Jake hated it, but what did he know about it? The first time he tried to get a record deal, he got it. He knew nothing about failure and rejection.

"Do we really have to go?" I asked after I was done with my hair.. I slipped on my heels and joined Edward at the door. He wore dark blue jeans and the mint green shirt he had on the day we first kissed in Times Square. It made his eyes look like candy.

"You need to meet people if you want that internship this summer." Apparently, Ben had no contacts, so this party would be work for me. "Hey," he took my hand and pulled me into a hug. "You look beautiful tonight. You'll be the most beautiful girl at this party," he murmured into my neck. He kissed it.

"Thank you for coming with me."

He pulled away with a crooked grin. "There's no place I'd rather be." He said this so sincerely that it made me blush. He stroked my cheek with a sigh.

"I'm sorry about my dad. I wish he wasn't being such an asshole about this. But you gotta know that you are the most important thing in my life, and no one, not my dad or anyone, will break us."

He kissed my cheek and hugged me again. It was exactly what I needed.

By the time we arrived at the party hand-in-hand, I felt stronger, nearly invincible. People asked me how I was, and I told them I was perfect. Then, I collected their information and moved on with Edward beside me the entire time. We hadn't been out together in a while. Sometimes, his old cast and crew would come over, and I'd join them in the living room for a chat or I'd cook everyone a meal, but it wasn't often. Edward and I went out on dates maybe once every couple weeks. We preferred staying home.

"Bella and... Edward right?" Jessica asked when Edward and I made our way to the sparkling party host. He nodded. "Are you having a good time?" She was lovely in a knee-length cream sheath dress. She reminded me of Ms. Evanson's outfit when I first met her at _The New Yorker_. Jessica even styled her hair the same way: bone-straight and parted at the side. Sleek.

"We're having a great time. I wish you'd invited me to your place more often," I said looking up at the high ceilings and over at the view of the Empire State building. "This place is amazing."

"Oh, it's old. And I'm over Hell's Kitchen. I'm thinking Brooklyn in the Fall," Jessica said with the utmost sincerity.

I bit my tongue. Why anyone would wanna move from Manhattan to Brooklyn baffled me.

"Williamsburg?" Edward asked, holding the small of my back. He squeezed it.

"No, Park Slope. Being surrounded by all those hipsters might drive me mad."

I peeked to the right and left. Half the people in this room were hipsters. Jessica giggled.

"I know," Jessica grinned. "But it's just one night."

"I thought you'd fit right into that crowd," I said with a cocked eyebrow. Jessica shook her head.

"Over it."

"Park Slope is ideal. Are you near the park?" Edward asked.

"Yeah, near the Pavilion."

"Very ideal. You'll love it there."

"Thanks! So what are you up to, Bella? Are you taking any classes in the summer? Or living dangerously and leaving school behind for good?"

Ah, the question of the night. I felt Edward squeeze my lower back again.

"I'm okay for now. I was just hoping you could give me some contacts. I'd love to get an internship somewhere this summer."

Jessica glanced around us, then up at Edward. "Uh, sure. Where would you wanna work?"

"Any magazine."

"Oh. Well... okay. I'll email you some prospects. How's that?" She patted my shoulder in the most patronizing way, then looked past us and the biggest smile crossed her face. "Hey!" She said to whoever was behind Edward and me. She glanced at us one final time. "Enjoy the party you two." Then, she ran and hugged a couple of hipsters.

"Well, that was awkward," I groaned. "Tell me that did _not _just happen?"

"You just need help narrowing down your interests." Edward massaged the spot Jessica had patted. His hand was like warm milk with a dash of cinnamon. "How could she help if you don't know what you really want?" His words were like a hot fiery spike.

_Because what I want is you, only you._

"I think I need a drink." I searched the apartment for the refreshments table and found a bucket of beer.

"No, Bella. We should talk to more people. You just need more practice, okay?"

When Edward squeezed my hand, the room around me began to tilt. I shut my eyes, a sudden headache hitting me.

"Hey, are you okay?" Edward grabbed my shoulders. "You just tipped over."

The dizziness subsided, but I told him I had to go to the restroom, which was luckily a foot away to my right. He helped me over and opened the door for me.

"I'll be right here," he said, concern pricking at the corners of his eyes. I knew he was trying to hide it, but he was doing a terrible job at it.

Inside the restroom was dark. So, I shut the door and turned on the light.

Just as quickly, I shut it off.

"No."

I felt my way along the wall to the toilet, which I sat on and lowered my head between my knees.

"No, not now. No."

In the mirror over the sink, I saw his eyes. And it wasn't with light like it was for weeks. My eyes looked like candy.

"When will it stop? I just need it to stop."

"Bella?" I heard Edward say through the door. "Bella, I'm coming in."

When he opened the door, the light from the hallway hit my feet.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" He turned on the light. "Are you nauseous? Bella, say something."

Edward knelt in front of me and took my hands. "Please tell me you're alright. Please, Bella."

I pressed my forehead against his, wondering if I could hear his thoughts tonight. I prayed he couldn't hear mine.

"I'm okay. Let's go home."

When I looked up into his eyes, they shone with tears. He was so scared.

"Edward, I'm okay."

After he helped me up, I took one more look in the mirror on our way out and saw only green.

**June 20, 2011**

This was it.

This was the day.

Edward would be celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday with his family throughout the day, then alone with me tonight. He would love my surprise for him: me in the blue Marchesa and dinner from Spice. We would enjoy a quiet night together.

Then, I would leave him.

It was something I had mulled over for weeks now. I thought it cruel to do it on his birthday, but I couldn't take it anymore, especially after figuring out why I was hallucinating.

Carlisle's incessant bribes had nothing to do with it. Edward finally got him to stop harassing me and they even reached an agreement when it came to the topic of me: I'd simply be off limits. Carlisle's words from our impromptu meeting in March stuck with me, though. Love shouldn't trump art. It should inspire it. And what I had with Edward didn't inspire him. He didn't win the role of Blake or any other supporting role, and I was beginning to feel responsible.

Nonetheless, Edward remained optimistic and continued to pound the pavement. I couldn't do the same. I didn't follow up on any of the leads at the party, and Jessica never emailed me her list. So, I stayed at home and did what I liked to do. I cooked for Edward or helped him with his research for all of his auditions. I didn't have that weird episode I had at the party again, which finally made Edward calm down.

He kept suggesting doctors, but I didn't want to go near one. It would make whatever I had seem real, and I wasn't ready to face that yet. I'd face it tomorrow. Today, I just needed to focus on what made me happy, which Edward did, until one day I got the answer to my hallucinations.

It was a couple of weekends ago. Edward was going on a trip and leaving me alone for two days and one night.

"I'll be in Vegas just for a day. Ben wants to celebrate his birthday there with the guys, you know Crowley and a bunch of others. I'll be back tomorrow night."

When he left Friday afternoon, I felt the tingles immediately, no matter how badly I wished them to stop. The dread emptied me out, and I lay on our couch until the next morning. The nightmares seized me for hours where I felt like I was suffocating. I couldn't escape them until daylight. I thought I saw Edward at least three times on my way to the shower. Opening the bathroom door slowly, I expected to see him in the bathroom mirror. Instead, I saw the most wonderful sight.

_My_ eyes. My eyes were brown.

I stared at myself for ten minutes, wondering when the green would appear, but it never did. I jumped into the shower and saw blood splash onto the tub fall from between my legs. My period was right on time. I never felt so relieved that things were so normal again..

But the dread remained and rendered me incapable of doing anything until Edward came home.

I opened the door as soon as he said he was downstairs waiting for the elevator. When I saw him and his light, I was awash with joy. He was just as excited to see me. Even after months of waking up next each other, our delight hadn't faded. I didn't think I would ever wake up and not feel like the luckiest woman alive.

As I brushed my teeth the following morning, my heart sank. In the middle of my head, his green eyes blazed.

It had to stop. The tingles. The dread. The hallucinations. And I didn't know how else to make it stop but to leave him. This was the only option for me. This was the only way I would see my brown eyes again.

Over the last week, every time I was about to tell him, I remembered the terror. The nightmares hit me so hard they took my breath away. I didn't eat for months. I had no will to live. How would living without Edward be any better than living with him? I asked myself this question everyday and came to the same conclusion: I'd do it tomorrow. Tomorrow I'd be stronger. My green eyes would fuel me. I couldn't be crazy anymore. I was not crazy.

Then, tomorrow was his birthday, and I went to sleep hating myself for doing this to him, but I couldn't think about him anymore. Edward would be fine without me. He had so many friends to help him. I had nobody but him.

I couldn't rely on him for everything anymore. I couldn't be so dependent on him.

I woke up this morning without his hairy forearm around me.

"Edward?" I sat up with my mind in a haze. He was usually in the closet at this time if not an inch away from my face, getting ready for a run at the park.

I heard his voice, then. He was downstairs on the phone with someone.

"Yeah, I can head over there now for the tickets. It's like five minutes away." He paused. "Yeah, I'll yell at Aunt Victoria myself for making me wait in line. How dare she quit before we get tickets! I'll see you later, Emmett."

As I heard Edward run up the stairs, I don't know why, but I lay down with my back to the door and feigned sleep. Maybe it was because I was afraid if I looked into his eyes again, he'd make me change my mind. Or because I couldn't bear to see him so happy when in a few hours, I would take his light away. I didn't know. I just couldn't face him.

"Aw, you're still asleep," he said in hushed tones. A few seconds later, he kissed my forehead. "Such a beautiful girl."

I waited to hear his feet thump down the steps then shuffle to the front door before I opened my eyes again. I took a deep breath and smelled his Irish Spring. God, this would be the last time I smelled it first thing in the morning.

I ran my hand through my hair and smelled him. He was in my skin, now. Edward would always be a part of me.

My iPhone beeped from the nightstand as I got out of bed. It was a text from Edward.

_Breakfast, then __Shakespeare in the Park with Emmett and Dad. I'll be home around 6. Love you, Bella._

_Edward, 8:05 a.m._

The screen became blurry and a couple of tears fell onto it. I wiped them away and tossed the phone onto the bed.

Our bed.

"God, how could I do this to him?"

I didn't know how long I lay in bed crying. I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, I dragged my feet to the bathroom.

I kept my gaze down into the sink as I brushed my teeth. After I spit out the toothpaste, I took a quick peek.

Green. Greener than a box of mint.

"Shit." I wiped my mouth of the toothpaste, then headed to our bedroom. Spotting the Bergdorf Goodman garment bag, I yanked it out and hung it in the center of the closet. I unzipped the bag and pulled out the dress.

_He would love me once more. He will have what he's wanted since last Fall, and I will give him what he wants one last time. But I cannot stay here one more night to wake up to these eyes. This must end. This will end._

Absently, I began rubbing the back of my neck. Then, I stopped.

_Isabella Swan, you will find yourself again. Let the addiction go. This isn't love. It'll never be love._

Right before I showered, I called Carlisle. It went to voice mail.

"Hi Carlisle. It's Bella. After rethinking our conversation last March, I've decided to take you up on your offer. I'm going to leave Edward tonight. Please tell me how you'd like to proceed."

Twenty minutes later, I received a text message in response.

_This is excellent news. We will take care of everything. Thanks. -Emmett_

_310-555-4100, 1:15 p.m._

**June 20, 2011****- Present Day and time. Plaza Hotel. **

***This scene takes place after "Part Three: Growing." Then, Bella just had a confrontation with Emmett, Carlisle, and Jane about Carlisle's bribe (which Bella refused), she learns about Jane's involvement in Carlisle's plot to cast Edward in the Paul Newman biopic, and faces her loneliness. At the end of the chapter, she wonders why she's so numb to her heartbeat as she opens her suitcase full of her clothing, a note from Edward asking her to come back to him, and her phone. A friend calls.***

"What the fuck is going on? I tried calling you a million times!" Jake's voice booms from my iPhone. I have to hold it away from my ear.

"I just... It's a long story."

I walk over to the windows, staring at the darkness ahead. Hundreds of New Yorkers bustle to and fro on the street, heading home after a long day and longer tribulations. Some are tourists, staring up into the windows of the Plaza, probably hoping to find a celebrity. They must think everyone who stays here leads a perfect life. I turn away from the window and wish I could tell them that perfection doesn't exist anywhere.

"Where are you? Edward said you ran off in the storm? What the fuck, Bells?"

"You spoke to Edward?" My stomach dives as I say his name.

"Yeah. He sounded like he was having a nervous breakdown!"

_Accurate. _

"I- I left him. I left Edward, Jake," I whisper into the phone as if I am sharing a secret. "I left him. I will never see him again. He's leaving for L.A. tonight."

"Well thank the heavens, the angels, and everything holy! You're finally done with that bastard!"

I groan, heading for the bed.

"You know how I feel about the guy. Don't groan. Anyway, where are you? You shouldn't be alone right now. I wanna pick you up."

"Pick me up? I thought you were on the West Coast somewhere?"

"Change of plans. I was part of an MTV special today."

"MTV? You've gotta be shitting me!" I slap my cheek. "Your song's on the radio and you're on MTV? Is this real life?"

"That's why I tried calling you, to celebrate."

"Oh." I plop down on the bed.

"We'll save the partying for another day. Where are you?"

I tell him I'm at the Plaza.

"What the hell are you doing there?"

"Really long story Jake. I'll tell you later."

"Bella, you gotta know that this is for the best, right? Finally, you can get your mind right, go back to school, and be the amazing girl you were before you met this loser."

I think about the girl who was self-righteous and judgmental and idealistic. The girl who sought very necessary truths and forsook reality. The "old Bella." I will be better than that.

_When I wake up tomorrow, I will see brown eyes again. Eventually, my heart will beat for new inspirations and passions. I will have a better life. _

"I'll be better, Jake. I just need your help."

"Of course I'll help. And Rachael and my dad will help. We'll all be here for you."

I grimace. "You mean go back to Forks? That's not happening. And aren't you done with press?"

"Not yet, but it doesn't matter. After my interviews tomorrow, I'm canceling the rest of the tour."

"You can't," I stutter. I slide off the high mattress to the floor.

"Dude, it's happening. I won't leave you alone at a time like this."

"But this is your dream," I pressed. "You can't give up on all those opportunities for me. I won't let you."

"Fuck them, Bella. Seriously. I could care less how this record does. If you're in trouble like you were before..."

"I'm not." I held the phone up to my ear with both hands, hoping he could hear the sincerity in my voice. "I'm healthy and strong. I've gained all my weight back and everything."

"Really?"

I clutch my chest. My heartbeat is faint.

"Yes. I'm not that girl anymore. I'll never be so out of touch again."

"Yeah, because you finally left all those crazy motherfuckers behind. They fucked you up, Bella. Now I'll be here until you're completely fine. We'll get you all the help you need. I should've done it when I saw you last winter. I should've been a better friend. I will be now. I'll make sure you're never Darkseid again."

I grin, then cover my mouth. My eyes begin to burn, and I feel a tear fall down my cheek.

_Darkseid is dead. _

"You _are_ a good friend. The best. I can't wait to see you, Jacob."

"Me too! See you in twenty minutes!"

After I get off the phone, I shower. I dry myself off near the stall and still smell Irish Spring.

_Maybe I can keep this part of him. _

As I towel my hair dry, I walk out to the bedroom and pick up the pieces of the hundred thousand dollar check that I tore in front of Emmett earlier tonight. I hope Edward can withstand the "lies and liars," I think, as I drop the check into the bin near the TV. He has to come back to New York as soon as production ends. He can't become one of them.

Trying to get my mind off of Edward, I lie down on the bed in one of the t-shirts and shorts he bought me last week and turn on the TV. Perfect fit, just like everything else he's ever bought for me.

I do a double take when I see Jake on TV. He's talking about the person who inspired him to write "Keys."

"It's an old song. I wrote it when I was in high school about a girl I had a crush on for years but never dated. She was too good for me."

"What?" I exclaim.

_He didn't write about Leah? I could've sworn..._

Just then, his music video begins to play. Jake sits on a stool alone in a dark stage with his guitar in his lap. It looks like a banjo in front of his huge chest and biceps. I swear he flexed as soon as the cameras begins rolling. He doesn't strum the strings, singing the first chorus a cappella:

_The keys to your soul_

_They could break my heart in two_

_They're like heaven and tomorrow_

_Your brown eyes are my truth._

Was he singing about my brown eyes?

A pale-faced petite brunette joins him on the stage, and I know.

Jake wrote a song for me, it's on the radio, and he made a music video that's playing on MTV featuring a girl who looks exactly like me.

"Jake, you can't." I turn the TV off and turn onto my back. My heart beats faster, but I still can't feel it like I used to. It's as if my skin is made of stone.

"You can't love me."

* * *

**A****/N Two to go.**

**Next chapter Chapter 49 "Love" will be up ****tomorrow.**

**Bye :)**


	52. Chapter 49 Love

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author. **

**A/N: Hi :)**

**The penultimate.**

* * *

**Chapter 4****9****- Love**

**September 13, 2011**

My summer was nothing like I thought it would be.

For one, my mom came to visit me in July, thanks to Jake, and we got a chance to see New York just like we planned last Christmas. That first night, I remember her asking what happened to "the young man who sounded like Jeremy Sisto." It was over dinner with Jake, who answered for me.

"He's history."

And in a way, Edward was. Mom made a bigger deal about it than Jake liked, but I put my foot down to end the conversation.

"If he's history," I said, "then let's leave him in the past."

Jake rolled his eyes because he knew that I wasn't actually doing that. Edward is a history I can't leave behind.

That's the second part of the summer I didn't expect. Edward and I are still friends. We live on opposite coasts and rarely speak about anything meaningful, like his father's health, but we are friends. He doesn't hate me for leaving, and I can't hate him. He says all the time that he can't wait until the film shoot ends because he hates L.A. and wants to come back to New York. A part of me perishes the thought.

If he ever comes back, it will be impossible to be just friends.

Another part of me loves this possibility so much, especially as the summer draws to a close and the days became shorter and shorter. I wake up in the middle of the night and imagine his arm around me. I can hear Edward breathe if I try hard enough to remember.

I never hallucinate these images. It's always memories playing back, filling me with his love.

Love.

Its definition is always beyond my grasp. When I asked my mom what it meant to her when she was here, she said it's something you know in your gut, that no one can tell you what it is. Your heart speaks for itself. But my heart has been silent since the night I left Edward. It feels like a foreigner inside of me, mute because it can't speak my language. I am numb to my emotions.

When Edward told me that Mr. Volturi cast Jane as Joanne Woodward, the great love of Paul Newman's life, I hardly reacted. I thought it made sense for him to cast her since she was his daughter. Of course she would want to co-star with Edward in a film about one of the most committed Hollywood couples of all time. I wasn't jealous or angry or insecure. Edward even explained how he had refused to do any love scenes with her because the idea alone made him physically ill, but that news brought no relief.

Edward thought this was unusual, as if these were residual effects of the Klonopin. I didn't have an answer for him. I'm not on any medication. I never sought mental help over the past couple of months. I just figure shit out on my own and deal with it. This method seems to be working well enough. I never have nightmares anymore. I never see Edward anywhere. My hypothesis was correct. The more distance Edward and I have between us, the more sane I am.

Then again, sanity has its shortcomings.

During our last phone conversation, Edward wondered how I was handling all the new attention because of Jake's recent success. I had a feeling he was really asking if all the rumors about us were true. I told him I was fine but didn't want to elaborate. It wasn't his business what Jake and I were anymore.

By August, Edward stopped calling me all-together. I assume it was because of the rumors and hated myself for most of that month. This was the only thing that made my heartbeat change. My heart felt like it was beginning to fill with rocks. I clutch it every so often, which Jake notices this morning.

"Don't let the paparazzi get to you." He pat my shoulders. He just returned from a workout and smells like goat cheese. I pinch my nose and wave him away. He knows better than to stand within one foot of me after one of his "Incredible Hulk" sessions. He laughs and turns for the mini refrigerator. When he faces me, a protein shake appears in his hand.

"It's not them," I sigh, staring out of the window. A dozen paparazzi should be down there. They always were waiting for me, the "Keys Girl," and Jake to go out. The story behind what inspired "Keys," struck the hearts of veritably every person in America last June, and they can't get enough of us.

"You look like someone put a dent on your old pick-up." Jake twisted the bottle cap open. "If it's not them, what is it?"

I look up into Jake's eyes right before he takes a swig of the shake, and he knows.

"What the fuck did he do?" He slams the bottle on the steel desk. Everything in this double-room suite, except for the beds, is made of steel.

"Nothing. I haven't heard from him, and I'm a bit worried, that's all."

"Oh," Jake says, pulling off his t-shirt. He shuffles over to the bathroom shirtless, like he is wont to do. His fans would think I am the luckiest girl in the world for the view. Jake had a body to die for, I guess. He was just too big for me. It was kind of intimidating to be honest, even though he was a squishy cuddly teddy bear inside. That's what his fans relish the most, I think, and probably hate me for it. But appearances can be deceiving.

This is the third unexpected aspect of my summer. Jake wrote "Keys" in high school and felt all of those feelings... in high school. He doesn't have a crush on me anymore. He isn't in love with me. Apparently, the girl in the music video wasn't even his choice. The label just brought her onto set, introduced her to him, and they started working together. After shooting wrapped, he never called her. In fact, Jake rarely dates girls who look like me. If he brings anyone to the suite, they're usually more voluptuous with dark skin and long dark hair. In other words, they all look like Leah.

Despite the girls he brings home, everyone still assumes that we're dating. And I guess they should. I've been staying at the W Hotel at Union Square with Jake since he picked me up from the Plaza. According to Jake, the label is notoriously cheap when it comes to new acts. But the moment word got out that the "Keys Girl" was shacking up with the "hottest pop star since Elvis," and the media storm hit, Sony has no problem fronting the exorbitant bill. This is easy press for their new act.

"Alright, I'm gonna shower. You need to turn that frown upside down, birthday girl. There's lots of stuff to do today."

I give him a cheeky smile as he does a little dance and heads for his bedroom.

Just like my last birthday, my friends are more excited than I am.

Twenty-two doesn't seem to be any better than twenty-one. Maybe thirty will be a big deal. Twenty-two isn't. Maybe by thirty, I'll make the right decisions. I'll be an adult by that age and adults tend to make better decisions than twenty-two year olds, right?

I slide a bookmark into the Introduction to Psychology text on the steel desk before me and shut it. It's my favorite Gen. Ed. class this semester. I have Calculus, Physics and a couple of advanced courses on theater to suffer through in order to graduate by December. Psychology's the sole fascinating course on the roster. And, as with everything else in my life, Jake covered that exorbitant bill.

It sounded like a terrible idea at the time, going back to school and taking all the classes that were exempt from the honors program. Psychology was a class I thought I could skip Freshman year because it was ingrained in all the analysis I did from Euripides to Mamet. How could you skip out on Freud when reading Sophocles? But I missed out on a lot of basics, something I shouldn't have taken for granted. I wouldn't have realized this if Jake hadn't put his foot down.

"How about another bet?" he dared the morning of registration. It was the second week of August and the blistering heat made me even lazier than usual. I lay in bed as obstinate as a tree trunk, soaking in the AC. "You graduate in December, and I'll pay your rent for a year."

I turned around, pushing my scraggly hair off my face. It was too long now, down to my lower back. It kept getting caught in everything. I didn't know what I was waiting for. I needed a trim at least.

"You mean I can pick any apartment in this city, and you'll pay for it?"

Jake nodded. "Get up and get to school!"

"That's way too much Jake. You're gonna pay my tuition and room and board?"

"Yeah, 'cause I can."

"Wait!" I sat up and pulled my knees up to my chest. "What if I lose the bet? Don't you win something?"

"Nah Bells. If you lose, I lose." He hopped on the bed and folded his legs in front of him. "So don't lose."

That was the fourth unexpected thing of the summer: I was back in school. And now Jake and I are headed to a place I have wanted to visit since I came to New York four years ago. This year is special. And most of the festivities are over now. We hope there won't be that much hoopla today, although Jake doubts it. The paparazzi will follow us like they always do.

Ten minutes later, while I carry the dozen white roses I ordered for the victims to the desk, I hear a boisterous flurry of curse words from Jake's room.

"What the-" I place the roses carefully on the desk.

Jake runs out of his room in his Spongebob Squarepants boxers, hollering with the biggest smile on his face.

"It's number one! It's number one! Holy fuckin' shit balls! My song is number one, Bells!" He grabs me, lifts me up, spins us around, plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek, lowers me to the floor, then runs around the rest of the suite for a couple of minutes like a crazy person.

"That's great. So... great." I sit down, as cool as a cucumber. Clutching my chest now, my heartbeat is still faint.

I can't even feel happy for my friend.

***Love***

Behind a pair of dark shades and a baseball cap, Jake attempts his incognito look but fails. He's bigger than his bodyguard, Isaac. Anyone down the street would notice him. As we hurry from the entrance to the black Ford Expedition at the curb, my eyes are blinded by flashing lights. It stuns me every time that anyone would take an interest in me. I'm really getting tired of it. It's why Jake's bet to pay my rent for a year means so much to me. I hate all of this scrutiny, and it's all based on a misunderstanding.

If I can live on my own, it would make Jake's life a lot easier, too. I know he wanted to get back on the road to perform all summer. It's what he loves doing more than anything else. I can't keep him from his fans anymore.

When Jake's driver shuts the door behind him, I clutch my chest again. All the cameras and taunts and attention should make my blood boil. I feel nothing.

"Hey, you got heartburn or what?" Jake asks, turning to me. "Why do you keep doing that?"

Wriggling in my seat, I tell him I don't know.

Arriving in the Financial District about twenty minutes later, Isaac surveys the area before letting us out. But the moment we step inside the 9/11 museum, people immediately begin to ask Jake for photos and autographs. Photos were prohibited inside of the museum, which made everyone crow. Locals as well as tourists who speak Jake's name with thick accents crowd around us, staring at Jake as if he's made of gold. Isaac tries to keep them orderly, but after a couple of minutes of signing autographs, people from the street come in, and it gets out of hand before you can say "fanatic."

"This isn't gonna work," I say, shaking my head when Jake finally looks my way. At least twenty of his fans separate us.

"Yeah, it's not. Let's grab some lunch, huh?"

I nod.

Jake takes off his glasses and gives Isaac the look that means he's ready to go.

Isaac sweeps his arm to the side, effectively pushing everyone between Jake and me away. He then stands behind us and pushes us forward as if he's a barge. It's slow going, but we reach the car with only a few hecklers. Someone calls me a bitch, saying I am to blame for making Jake leave, but, like everything else, it doesn't faze me. I jump into my seat, Jake following me a second later.

"Hmm, maybe it's time for more bodyguards?" I suggest with a chuckle. Jake sighs beside me, picking out a rose from the seat between us.

"We should still try to leave these, don't you think?" He presses the petals into his nose.

"But how?"

He peeks over at Isaac in the front seat.

"You really think he'd do that?"

"Sure. It's why I pay him the big bucks," Jake grinned.

At lunch in Chimichurri Grill, an Argentinian restaurant on 9th, we have a lot more privacy. I asked Jake months ago if we could try something new, and Chorizo (pork sausage) and Churrasco (grilled filet mignon) are the answer. Jake even surprises me with a cake from City Bakery, and the waiters sing "Happy Birthday" in Spanish. It feels like we are in another country for a couple of hours. I can't stop eating the chocolate cake. I have two slices, just as much as Jake does.

All the wine I have sends me to the ladies room and gives me a good buzz. When I return to our table, Jake has the best news.

"Guess who'll be the warm-up act for Cee-Lo Green this Fall?"

I scratch my head with a sly look in my eye. "The Forks High School Marching Band?"

"Pshaw, Bella!" He playfully slaps my forearm. "Me!"

After a brief giggle fit, I nod emphatically. "I know, silly head, I know."

He puffs out his chest and gives me a huge cheesy grin. "My goal is to get him to produce at least one song for me. Think he will?"

"After the year you've had?" I cock an eyebrow. "I bet you'd be able to call Obama for dinner if you wanted to."

"Yeah," he sniffs, popping an invisible collar. "I probably could." He's being facetious, shaking his head immediately after boasting. This is perhaps his best quality, his humility. I have this feeling that he'll keep it, no matter how many tours he goes on, whether as a warm-up act or headliner.

I sigh, speaking on impulse, "I love you, Jake."

Stunned, his eyes bulge, and he sits back in his seat. I reach out for his hand and squeeze it. Blushing, I wrinkle my nose. "I don't mean to get all mushy, but I don't think a girl could ask for a better friend."

He sticks his tongue out at me. "You know you'll have to pay all of this back one day, right? My friendship don't come cheap."

"I know. And I will, with interest."

The rest of my afternoon is spent at the W studying because of an impromptu meeting Jake has to prepare for the tour. I have a Physics exam tomorrow, and I'm confident I'll ace it. I've been doing pretty well in that class, but never felt confident that I'd ace an exam.

My mom calls around three to ask if I got my gift: the two hundred dollars. I thank her for it and think of buying her something with it this year. I guess that's one thing about being 22: thinking about others before myself, or at least starting to. I have a few more years of selfishness to live out, right?

I study until around nine, take a shower, then head to bed. Class is early, and I don't want to be late.

I take a deep breath, the scent of my shampoo filling me. I never strayed from the pear-scented variety. It's the same reason I can't cut my hair. I am waiting.

_How can I go on living with this foreign heart in my body?_

I fall asleep into new dreams. They are so vivid and as bright as daylight. I can hear Edward as if he's right beside me. He's laughing. Tears fall down his cheeks, he laughs so hard. We're in the living room at our penthouse, and he's overjoyed. It feels like he'll never stop being this jubilant.

The front door slams, waking me up and pulling me out of the light. In that same moment, I feel my cell phone vibrate somewhere on my bed. I've had it on vibrate all summer.

I sit up, wanting to throttle Jake for slamming the door. I've told him a million times how disruptive it is.

Patting my sheets, I find my phone beneath the pillow on the left side of the bed. I have a feeling it's an email from my dad: a gift certificate from Home Depot, just like it was last year.

When I pull my phone out, the screen is lit with a different name and the most beautiful words I have ever seen.

_Come home. I need to see you._

_Edward, 11:59 p.m._

My stomach feels cool, like I just drank a peppermint milkshake. I smile and roll onto my back.

"You could've called and said 'Happy Birthday,' you bastard."

I peel the sheets off and reminisce about _our_ sheets and pillows. I wonder if they still smell like him, or the both of us. I'd be happy if only Irish Spring remains.

Then, I stop.

What am I thinking? It's been months since we've seen each other. We can't just act like nothing's changed and pick up where we left off.

But that's the thing! Everything's changed. He's here and wants me home. How could I refuse him? I can't.

I love Edward Cullen.

If one text makes all of the cells in my body shift, how else could I explain it?

In my closet, I've hung up all the clothes Edward packed last June. My suitcase rests on the floor beneath them. Except for one shirt and a pair of jeans, I slide them off the hangers and dump them inside the suitcase. I empty the one dresser drawer of my underwear and drop them in a pile atop the clothes. Hurrying into the bathroom, I take my toothbrush and the rest of my toiletries. A peek in the mirror shows a girl with a severe bed-head dilemma. I grab a brush and work through the tangles on the right side of my head.

After one more stare down, I stick my tongue out. My brown eyes sparkle.

Putting on the clothes I left out, I feel a serenity I have never felt. I am hopeful as I tug on the hem of the Beethoven t-shirt.

I don't know why he's scowling. Only good things are in store for Edward and me.

I grab my books and my iPad and take a final look at the hotel room. Then, I head out to the sitting room.

Jacob sits on the couch with one leg up on the coffee table, munching on Doritos. He's watching SportsCenter, his way of "chillin'" every evening.

"Hey, sorry about slamming the door," he says absently, not even looking in my direction. But once I move to the front door, I hear the hard crinkle of the bag in his hands.

"Whoa! What's the suitcase for?"

At the doorway, I face him. He scratches his head as I squeeze the handle of the suitcase.

"Edward's home."

My voice is so small, but once Jake hears "Edward" fall from my lips, he slams the large half-eaten bag down onto the coffee table.

"Leave the motherfucker home, then." He eyes my suitcase. "Unless that suitcase has his stuff in it that you wanna return?"

I shake my head. "I- I wanna return." My heart beat so loudly in my head, I can barely hear myself.

Jake's eyes bulge. "What did you just say?"

"I know it sounds crazy-"

"Bella, no." He shakes his head. "Unh unh. You're not leaving this suite to go back to him tonight or ever."

"Jake-"

"You told me less than four months ago that you lost yourself. You dropped out of school. You were addicted to this guy. That was the word you used, correct?"

"Yes, but-" I sigh as Jake interrupts me again.

"How did Mr. Heroin over there become safe to see again?"

"I'm a different person, now," I stutter.

Jake scoffs as he walks over to me. "You can't even say it. You don't believe it. You know you'll go back to him and everything will go back to the way it was and..." He peers down at me. "And you don't care, do you?"

"I won't be the girl that I was before because Edward's not the same guy." I say this with more conviction, even though I believe this just as much as I believed everything I said earlier.

"What? That he's half the asshole he used to be?" Jake reaches down and easily snatches the suitcase from my hands. He holds it behind his back. "Not once this summer did he come to see you. And he stopped calling last month, didn't he?"

I suck my teeth. "I'm sure he has a good explanation for that." _Maybe it wasn't me after all? He wouldn't ask me to come home if he was jealous over those rumors. What if something happened to Carlisle?_

"Right! He doesn't love you, and you don't love him, remember? Nothing's changed."

"Everything has." I smile up into Jake's eyes. "I didn't know what my life would be like without him until now. You must feel this emptiness, too, since breaking up with Leah."

"I never wanna see that girl again as long as I live!" He raises his chin defiantly, which makes me laugh.

"You see her every time you pick a groupie. They all look like her, Jake." He keeps his chin up.

"But they aren't her, are they? They've never lied to me."

I poke his shoulder. "Deep down you'll always love her."

"Nah, I'm over her."

I give him the side-eye. "Oh please."

"I don't dwell on what's obviously bad for me, Bella. I leave that shit behind. You should do the same."

Leaning back against the door, my hands behind my back, I play with the tips of my hair.

"Then you were never in love with her."

Jake tosses the suitcase to the side and does his intimidating stance. "And now you think you're in love with Mr. Heroin?"

"I know it. It's in my heart." My heart beat is getting louder, almost like it was before I left the penthouse.

He cocks his eyebrow. "You really think you should let your heart make decisions for you? As if that worked so well before."

"It's love that leads me. I feel alive, Jake. Don't you think that's what love does to us? It makes feel so much _more_."

"Bella," Jake says with a calmer voice. He opens his arms and holds me by my arms. "Love is trust and respect. It's kindness and compassion. It's an inspiration."

I think back to what Carlisle said about how love should do just that. And Edward did lose all those auditions... Not to mention how my life had turned upside down.

But why do I feel like I'm not even here? I didn't feel joy for Jake when his song went to the top of the charts. That can't be okay. And what if I stay like this forever? Or what if I never find another person who makes me feel even half of what Edward did?

"I think of all those people who died before their time at the 9/11 Memorial," I tell Jake. "If they could have one more day on Earth, they'd want to be with a loved one." I fold my arms across my chest. "I was wrong before. I wasn't addicted to him."

"Goddammit! Yes, you were!"

"Jake, you can't fathom what Edward and I had. We were connected unlike two people could possibly be connected. We were almost the same person."

"Bella." Jake's mouth went slack. "That's crazy. You can't lose yourself again and call it love."

"I told you, I'm not the same girl. When I see him tonight, I will love him right."

"I won't let you."

"How are you gonna stop me, huh? You're gonna cancel another tour for me? You can't keep doing this, Jake. You can't keep trying to save me."

I bend down for my suitcase, pull the handle and roll it to my feet.

"I won't let you out of this suite, Bells."

I open the door behind me, which Jake forces closed with one hand beside my head. I glare up at him. If he wants to fight, I'll bring it.

Suddenly, I have an idea. It's pretty far-fetched but I'm sure it'll make Jake understand how determined I am to be sane with Edward this time.

"How about another bet?"

Jake's eyes shimmer and his forehead furrows. "You're seriously gonna make this into a game?"

I shrug. "Why not? I know I'll win this time."

Jake stands back, peering down at me with suspicion. "You never win. What makes you so sure you'll beat me this time?"

"Because I'm sure of Edward."

"Oh God!" Jake slaps his forehead and slides it down his face. "What's the bet?"

"Let me go tonight and I swear, I'll keep calling you everyday. I'll stay in school. I'll keep the weight. I won't lose myself."

"Or?"

"Or-" I scrunch up my nose. "I go back to Forks and live with my dad."

Jake balks. Then, he reaches out for my hand. "Deal! And you gotta stay there for at least six months, Bells."

"Yeah, whatever. Now, let me go."

Jake whistles. "You better be expecting a call from me in ten minutes. If you don't pick up, I'm going over there."

"Don't fuck up my reunion man, come on." I open my arms wide. "Now hug me."

Jake bends over and hugs me tight. "Take care of yourself, Bella."

I have to roll my neck around and stretch after a hug like that.

"You're so worried," I say, slapping his chest with the back of my hand. "Everything's so much better, now. You'll see."

* * *

**A/N: ****The final chapter, Chapter 50 "Change,**" **will be up t****omorrow.**

**Bye :)**


	53. Chapter 50 Change

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related. No copyright infringement is intended and there is no financial gain by myself in this story. The original characters, plot, and setting are the property of the author, NTJB. Please do not reproduce this story without the express permission of the author. **

**A/N: Hi :)**

**Thank you all. Long A/N at the end that I debated for a while just how deep I should get with y'all. But I've decided to keep it in, just because.**

**I'm of the old fiction tradition that you should read a work and interpret it however you like. So, I've removed my thoughts from the A/N, although I think most would realize how I feel about my characters' actions. If you'd like to discuss it, I'm around.**

* * *

**Chapter ****50****- Change**

**September 14, 2011**

_My life is bound with Edward's. No one can tear us apart ever again, not even fate._

"Taxi!" I screech when I'm down on the street. There are no paparazzi tonight, and I'm thankful.

"Fifth and 70th," I say into the passenger window after one stops in front of me. The driver nods, and I jump in with my suitcase. "And hurry. I've got someone important to meet."

When we reach 23rd St., I pull out my cell phone and text Edward back.

_I'll be there in ten minutes._

_Me, 12:35 a.m._

_I can't wait to see you, Bella._

_Edward, 12:35 a.m._

There are butterflies swimming around the peppermint milkshake in my stomach. I hear about butterflies in love songs. I've read about them in books. I've read about people being so obsessed with the ones they love that they kill the object of their obsession. they claim it's psychosis, or a psychotic break. My Introduction to Psychology text says love has similar symptoms to psychosis at times. And in certain cases, psychosis can be treated with the right mental care and medication.

There is no cure for love. And when it's as potent as mine is for Edward, there shouldn't be a cure.

I remember a couple of lines from Shakespeare's sonnet, then:

"_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom."_

Jake never loved Leah if he could just let her go. It was an infatuation. What Edward and I have is deeper, it's everlasting. It will stand the test of time and bear the brunt of even the most brutal opposing force. Love is the moment when you're drowning and you need to breathe and you would rather be with your lover than to take that breath. Love is being blind and seeing the world through your lover's eyes. Love is feeling the beat of your lover's heart as if it were your own. It's inheriting his feelings and sharing them. Love is making your lover happy. At all costs, if I am strong enough to handle it, I will make Edward happy. I wouldn't have these butterflies right now if this weren't true.

I love Edward Cullen.

Ten minutes later, I feel like my heart is about to explode as I see the familiar green awning. It looks like nothing has changed.

"Here! Here!" I throw the twenty at back of the driver's head. Then, I open the door and run towards the entrance.

A new guy, middle aged with an earring in his ear, stands at the door.

"Miss?"

"Where's Vincent?" I ask, already out of breath. I haven't gone for a jog since June. I look forward to starting my exercise regimen again with Edward.

"Ah, he passed away last month, miss. How can I help you?"

I feel a lump of coal drop into the milkshake.

"What?" My lips barely move.

"He died in his sleep, or so I've heard. Is someone expecting you tonight?"

I grab my chest, my heartbeat creating a raucous. "Yes, I'm here to see Edward Cullen, in PH E?"

He reaches into his pocket for a notepad and reads it. "Bella Swan?"

"Yeah, let me up! I used to live here!"

"It's fine," I hear _my _baritone say from behind the man, inside the lobby. When I look up, all of my senses heighten, and there's a hum... no, a buzz in my right ear, as if there's feedback in my body. I am electric. All of the hairs on my arms, shoulders, cheeks, and neck stand on end.

Edward is magnificent in a black suit and white, pressed button-down shirt, no shoes. His toes are as pink as his cheeks. His hair is cut short, like Newman's was for most of his life, and his jaw is shaved.

His eyes are crimson and green.

"Bella," he says with outstretched arms. Leaving the suitcase at the entrance, I run to him like he is the sole source of oxygen left on this planet. In other instances when two lovers see each other after a long time apart, time would slow down or a pair of knees would buckle. In the past, I would feel tingles down my arms and up my spine. I would've felt the emptiness in my stomach fill. Edward's hands would tremble at his side. Now with us, I feel like I no longer have a body.

I am in his arms before I know it, breathing him in. _My _Irish Spring.

He's not cool to the touch. He's not feverish, nor am I. We are the same temperature.

"Bella," he repeats. All I hear is his voice. I don't feel anything. Maybe I am in shock, I don't know. His arms wrap tightly around me, and he kisses the top of my head. "You're the only one," he says into my scalp.

Raising my hands to his chest, I look up into his eyes. It's as if the viridian never existed. I dive into his turbulent sea with every blink. Something's happened.

"He's gone. Dad's gone."

I don't say a thing, because we don't need any more words. I bury my face into his chest.

_I will be his stability this time._

"Sir?" I hear the new doorman clear his voice behind us with my suitcase in his hand. Edward strokes my cheek as he takes it from him. Then, we walk arm in arm to the elevator.

"He was... August was bad. I'm sorry I didn't call. The film had wrapped, and my dad fell gravely ill. We were lucky Mr. Volturi was able to get a director's cut for him before he went into a coma. I guess all he had to do was see me..." Edward sniffs and clears his throat. "All he had to do was see the movie and leave us." His voice is husky until the end. When he starts up again, he's regained his composure. "I found out Jane sabotaged each and every audition I went out for last Spring, so trying not to murder her was something I had to focus on whenever I wasn't with Dad." He says this with a straight face, rubbing the handle of my suitcase with his thumb.

I give him a little squeeze as the elevator door closes before us. Of course Jane was the reason he lost those roles. He's too talented for those directors to deny him.

"We buried him with his hairpiece. I think he would've liked that."

I nod.

"Enough about me..." He grins sheepishly.

"Jake's not my boyfriend," I answer with a smile. I kiss his neck.

"Ah."

The car stops, and the doors open to our floor.

The last time I was here, I was so sure that everything in that penthouse, including the man I held in my arms, was bad for me. Yet, how could I be so sure of that when this feels so good?

"Maybe we should think of finding another place to live?" he asks as we walk to our door. It's ajar. All the lights are on inside.

I shrug. "Whatever you want, Edward."

When we get inside, Edward pulls me in for one of his long hugs.

So good.

Pulling away, he holds my face up to his and peers into my eyes. How could I help but not drown in my green pools? It just won't be like it was before. My eyes will be brown... even if his are so much more beautiful than my own.

Maybe I was wrong to be so frightened by the hallucinations before? I could have seen the most incredible thing and misread it as psychosis. It was a miracle, I think, and a sign of good things to come. The why girl, the one that Esme Evanson had randomly named with the boring brown eyes, should have been left behind. I can be new and strong and keep my head but take on Edward's, too. This is love: to redefine oneself.

Maybe I can take on the identity of this man who loves me more than I love myself?

Jake won't have to worry because I will call him as soon as I come back from the park with Edward tomorrow morning. I will never go back to Forks. I will be strong.

I think this as Edward continues to peer down into my eyes, searching for something. We stand together in the foyer, with our foreheads pressed together and our eyes inches apart, until he says,

"I used to be able to hear your thoughts." I gasp as he presses his lips to my right ear. "And I know you heard mine. Tell me you read my mind."

"I did," I whisper. I bow my head as he kisses my ear, and down to my cheek. I should've known he could do this, too. I heard his voice from thousands of miles away give me commands about when to come. I've had dreams of our memories, of our lovemaking, just as he had. We were beyond connected. We were one and the same. "I thought there was something wrong with me?"

"And with me," he whispers against my lips. His breath smells of mint. This worries me. He knew about my hallucinations? When he says, "We should see a doctor about this," I lose my breath. Then, I see his crooked smile.

He's being facetious. And if he knows about my hallucinations, then he's okay with it.

Perhaps he's had hallucinations of his own? I wouldn't tell anyone if he did. And I'm sure, now, that he wouldn't tell anyone about me.

"Maybe we need a cure?" he asks.

We shake our heads simultaneously, both smiling about our little secret.

Shutting his eyes, he brushes his lips against mine. I close my eyes, too. Then, his hands are lifting my t-shirt as my hands push his jacket off his shoulders.

We move to the staircase and our kiss deepens. I bite his bottom lip by accident when we unzip our pants.

Rather than apologize, I tilt my head to kiss his lip. I taste no blood, and it saddens me.

Once our pants are off, he holds my waist and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his bare back, never breaking the kiss. He takes us upstairs and into our bedroom.

Lowering me to the bed, I take another deep breath and his Irish Spring fills me. I used to smell like this once and thought it was enough.

Tonight, I want more of him. I want all of him.

Pushing my panties off while he grabs a condom from the drawer, I sit up to watch him. He hasn't lost any weight, like I haven't. He looks healthier now than I've ever seen him. I hope he feels the same way about me. I hope he can read these thoughts, but as he looks at me, his eyelids are heavy with other ideas on his mind.

He pushes his underwear off as I tear open the condom wrapper with my teeth. And I stare. I want to worship this creature who kneels before me. This perfect creature. _My _god.

With shaky hands, I put on the condom. I consider making an appointment tomorrow for birth control pills so that nothing can separate us again. Edward grins as if in response to the thought, and I look at him in wonder. When I peer into his eyes, I don't hear him.

Then, he's kissing me and releasing the hooks of my bra and stroking my back so gently that I whimper. His lips are on my neck and my nipples and my stomach and inner thighs all at the same time, it seems. And when I think his tongue will taste me, he crawls up my body instead. He's so hot and hairy and everywhere, but just like so many other times, it's not enough and I need more.

I thrust my hips into him, his kisses whetting my appetite. With a groan, he lifts my jelly-like legs up over his shoulders. When he slides his cock over my clit, I arch my back to be closer. Closer to his heat. His touch is furnace-like, now, making me sweat.

God, then he enters me.

Gentle thrusts meet my eager body. He cups my breasts like they are made of feathers. I can't endure this as my legs fall off of his shoulders onto the bed. I am in a daze, unable to concentrate because of the flurry of emotions flying through us.

I am shattered from his rising heat and my fever, his adoring hands and my yearning. His body is impossible over mine. He is a shimmering god, glowing over my burning flesh. Absolute control. I rub his chest and abs and hips, craving for what he has. I want to fall to my knees to beg for his glory. I have to be as strong as he is. I need to be as pure.

He goes deeper as he quickens his pace, causing the first eruption in my heart. Warmth spreads from my chest, down my arms, to my fingertips. When I squeeze his face with my pink hands, his cheeks immediately take on the same color. His pinks and reds are just as magnificent as his sea green.

I don't think as I say what I have felt in my heart the moment I saw his luminescent body on stage that first night. "Edward. I love you. I love you."

As our tongues twist in our mouths, I find more of his glory. He keeps it deep down, but I will touch it soon. It will fill me. I need to extract the rest and see more.

He is so beautiful when he pulls away. The color of guava from his forehead to his collarbone. Swiftly, he pulls me up with his arms around my waist. He kneels down below me, holding me upright, and I plant my feet behind him on the mattress. Our chests crush together and our heartbeats collide. So close.

I nuzzle him as he guides me by my hips down his cock. I meet his thrusts until he is buried to the hilt. Too too slowly, he lifts me up until only the head is in. With shaky legs, I struggle to compose myself as he keeps the pace slow. Soft kisses like summer rain feel like our first kiss in the Times Square train station. I can't feel my tongue when he pulls away. My lips are on fire. I wrap my arms around his neck, watching him watch me. Deep down, I feel his lips are on fire, too.

As soon as I meet his rhythm, he releases my waist. Finally, he gives up control. His fingers trickle down my back, so soft. He strokes my cheek, watching me with that familiar glimmer.

Various pinks rise from our connection, eventually meeting with the hues at our chests. I am so wet, my juices coat our inner thighs in shiny stickiness. He slips out of me with almost every thrust, leaving the nerves in my body on edge. Each time his cock slips out, we curse simultaneously, staring at its glistening length between us. I don't know how long I could keep the slow pace.

I drop my head back, when he slips out again. I thought I could keep it together, squeezing my thighs around him, but when he rubs my clit with his thumb, my composure depletes.

I push him down to the mattress, clawing at his chest and neck. He groans my name, the sound shaking me to the core. His legs rise behind me, and I begin to ride him fast. I feel like an erratic bull over him. I have neither mind nor spirit. The only thing that flares from me is unadulterated lust. I crave the very essence of him. In moments, I will see it. It will shine like the North Star I've seen in my hallucinations. His essence. _My_ love.

My nails cut up the pink skin on his chest and draws blood. Tiny crimson droplets form, and I slow my pace with each tear of his skin.

Here is his essence. My love is tangible.

Leaning forward, I lick each drop until there are none left. My mouth is salty with it, and my tongue pulses from the savory flavor. I suck on my bottom lip, pushing off his chest to begin the ride again, my true eruption near.

His mouth is agape, and he breathes heavily through it. A myriad of emotions flashes with each blink of his blond lashes. His eyes stops my ride. He is stunned by what I have done. I worry that the root of it is revulsion and wipe my lips with the back of my hand. But he pulls my face down to his until our lips are close. He pushes my hair behind my ear so gently. Raising my chin, he kisses me with a fervent charge, knocking down every single nerve in me.

He understands my need to drink him. This will keep him inside of me forever. Never will the emptiness seize me. This is forever. My body will become bone and dust, but he will always be a part of me.

When he pulls away, he kisses my cheek. His long arms hold me to him so that our breaths mingle, and our heartbeats meet in fervor. With his jaw clenched, he grabs my hips, guiding me again. This time, he forces me down fast. The smacking sound of our wet skin joining fills me. Shooting up from my depths, a familiar ache beckons me. It's stronger than any of its predecessors, rolling forth like a thirty-foot wave, demanding satiation.

He matches my thrusts so that we are in sync. He can go faster, but he won't yet. He wants to wait for me. He wants me to come more than I do. In his eyes, I see myself coming already.

I drop onto his chest at the realization, capsized. I come with such a force, sparks burgeon all over my body.

For quiet moments, we lay together, and I could could feel his fingers tingling.

I am trapped between my pain and his newfound pleasure. Then, something clicks inside of me.

There is a sumptuous pulse rising from within him. Edward is warming up around me when the pulse intensifies into a pound. It spreads from his body to mine. Unlike any other time we've made love, I can feel his pleasure as if it is my own.

"Fuck me." I hiss. "Fuck," I repeat hoarsely.

He pulls out and rolls us around until I am on my back. Then, pushing my legs down to the right, he gazes down at me with this need in his eyes. I already know what he craves as I get up on all fours.

His craving is mine.

He slips his cock in my pussy filling me in heat. The ache is a hurricane swirling and building, about to destroy every cell in our bodies. His voice rings through the air, expressing everything that I was feeling.

He calls out my name into the back of my neck as he pulls out and sinks back in. It is exquisite. Lost in the jumble of his emotions and mine, I can't differentiate from where he ends, and I begin.

His movements are measured, yet we reach the same intensity we did before. Pushing our pillows to the floor, I'm overcome by this new life. This feels too good.

_He__'s __gonna come. He__'__s so close._

I close my eyes and see his. I am myself. I am inside of Edward. I am Edward. The emotion that ripples through him as he comes, ripples through me.

Love.

_I love you so much. God, I love you. _

It begins as his thought and becomes mine. I repeat the same words and hope he can hear them.

_Forever, Bella. We will love each other forever._

The End

* * *

**A/N:**

**This has been quite a journey for me. I started writing this at the height of the**** Twilight**** fanfiction craze, before MOTU was published, and at a very difficult point in my life. I ****had**** a lot of difficult choices to make that I didn't want to make when I started writing this and after two years, the choices were made for me. I had to deal with them and roll with it because I had no options. What Bella went through in the Prologue was exactly what I was going through, except I didn't leave a man. In fact, I didn't have the strength to leave my situation. I was trapped and didn't think I was strong enough or smart enough to get the hell out of Dodge. **

**I could****n't face reality. ****I ****read fics. ****I ****d****o****ve headfirst into twitter. ****I**** pushed all of ****my**** demons aside and acted like they d****id****n't exist****, hoping to God**** another addiction was just around the corner. I ended this fic this way, where Bella succumbs to her ****addictions, because this is something I see women and men do every day. I was doing it. Heroes are rare, especially at the tender age of 22, which is Bella's age by the end of this. What 22 year old girl has enough strength to self-actualize, find her inner goddess, and accomplish her goals and dreams? That kind of character, the Katniss Everdeens of the fiction world, are**** diamonds in th****e**** r****ough****. And I admit, Bella wasn't exactly a basket-case. She did a lot of outlandish things that normal girls (like myself) wouldn't do, but that's why I loved writing her. **

**Writing this fic has made me put my life in perspective. I didn't value it for a long time, and it's a struggle not to let fear dictate my actions, but the alternative sucks. I've lived it for the last three years, believe me. I have so much more growing up to do, but I feel like I'm on the right track at least. I just have to put it on the Fast Track. I won't be on this Earth forever.**

**As for PTD, ****I know**** Bella's**** hard t****o relate to****. And I know this fic is tough**** to grasp**** because of the shifts in time and the unreliable narrator, amongst other things. I'd like to thank my readers who read this way back in December 2010 and stuck with it until now, nearly three years later. I'd especially like to thank my reviewers who gave me great advice****, critique, ****or words of praise. The fact that you spent any b****i****t of time on this means the world to me. This fic doesn't have that much smut, or humor or ****friendly**** characters who always do the right thing; so, when readers came back to this each week, it was an honor for me to witness.**

**I've had so many people support me throughout the years, people who don't even read fanfiction anymore and have since gone on and ****pursued their own dreams or have suffered tremendous loss. I won't list them here, ****b****ut to each and every one of you, thank you. People undergo tragedy and joy and peace and turmoil in a span of three years and that these women helped me produce this fic out of the kindness of their hearts has truly been a blessing. I would be nothing without ****them.**

**I won't write an epilogue for various reasons I'd rather share with you via pms.**

**I used to think I could go back and rewrite this. Maybe extend their courtship or make Bella less of a bitch or make a more linear timeline. But over time, I've realized that this entire process has been an exercise. This is far from perfect, I know. I know I'm not a very good writer, and that I have a lot to learn before I can even call myself a writer. But I have nothing left to say with these characters and to go back would ****take me away from another tale I'd want to tell. So, I won't come back to this, write an epilogue or ****revise it****. It is what it is****, ****and it's done.**

**I've reached a point in my life where I feel like everything I want to say has been said in many languages, in many variations, by both men and women and over the course of hundreds of years. I have nothing to add to fanfiction or literature. I don't think I'll write anything else for ****a while. And if I do, I highly doubt it'll be Twilight fanfiction. ****It feels like fewer and fewer of us read this genre. ****One of my prereaders ****didn't read any by the time I was nearly done with this fic, and she co-ran a ****fic ****website for goodness sakes!**

**So, I'm done. It's time to let the addictions go and face reality. Sometimes, it's hard as fuck, but hiding behind fear isn't living. **

**Bye :)**


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